


Scaliest

by RonniRotten



Series: Scales [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Animal Death, Bards, Gender Fluid Character, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Magic, Other, Swearing, dragon - Freeform, spamano - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-05-13 09:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 29,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14746022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RonniRotten/pseuds/RonniRotten
Summary: When his entire life is taken from him, Antonio vowed to slay the beast that ruined his life no matter the cost. But on his travels he meets a secretive, sassy bard who might be more helpful than either of them realize. Is vengeance the answer or is there more at stake?





	1. The End

It was not uncommon for a dragon to attack a farming village set apart from the castles and towns. A thunderstorm was less likely to happen. But when Beryl Frost came down from her perch, it was clear that no one expected to see her. She had been sleeping in her cave on the mountain when some fool tried to steal her treasure. The fool succeeded. Beryl Frost was a flying creature hardly taller than the tallest horse but the roar of despair she let loose could be heard for miles. Her sapphire eyes were filled with rage as her leathery blue wings flapped rapidly. No one was safe from her wrath.

Before the dragon arrived, life in the village was quiet as usual. The only person who wasn't in the fields at work was a young boy with bright green eyes. Antonio was hardly eight years old and the baby of the village. He was still too young to work and was trustworthy enough to keep out of trouble. He was drawing a picture on a plank of old wood with some charcoal from the stove when he heard the screams.

He ran outside his home and skidded to a halt in the middle of the road. He saw his older brother Afonso racing toward him with a hand covering his left eye. He was bleeding. The fields behind him in the distance were hidden under towers of ice speckled with blood.

"Get Clavileño and Rocinante!” Afonso yelled to him, “We have to go! Now!” he shouted to Antonio, who was frozen in place. His eyes were locked onto the top of the towers where a deep blue lizard clung with her claws. Her long, serpentine neck stretched and rolled as she scanned the area. Her tail swished back and forth hypnotically.

Afonso scoffed and ran faster. He took Antonio's hand with his free one on his way to the stables. He dragged the boy down the dirt path, enraged by the land and it's beasts. Antonio began to run with him. He began to understand his situation and all that happened.

"Clavileño likes you, take him!” Afonso ordered as a dingy wooden building came into view. He lost sight in his left eye, he had to take the calmer horse. Little Antonio could handle the wild young horse. He had to.

"What was that thing?” Antonio asked as Afonso burst through the stable doors. The crash that followed set both horses on edge. They reared back and whinnied. Afonso hurried to the smaller of the two, ignoring Antonio's question for a moment and sacrificing his hold on the bleeding. He was able to soothe the horse quickly despite his injury and leapt into the stall. He raced to get the bridle and saddle on the tan horse. Antonio was losing his patience–his brother could tell.

"That was the ice dragon, Beryl. She's usually peaceful! But obviously that's not the case anymore. She just killed everyone but us!” Afonso huffed as he secured the harness and saddle on Clavileño. He motioned Antonio to take the horse and quickly calmed the mare–quite a task for a young man covered in blood.

"Details later–go! Rocinante will follow her colt!” Afonso ordered. Antonio climbed onto the sandy horse and cracked the reins. Afonso had his horse saddled and bridled when Clavileño reared back and ran. He jumped onto the poorly named mare before she got too antsy and ran without him.

Antonio steered his horse away from the glacier he once called home. Cold wind smacked his face, now lined with tears. Everything and everyone he knew was dead and gone–except his horses and jerk of a brother. All because of an angry dragon! The air was ice but the poor boy was burning with rage.

Afonso wasn't far behind him, but far enough that he couldn't smell the pine forest ahead. Antonio could as he saw neared it. That's when he spotted a strange cloaked figure darting through the trees. Another survivor! Antonio snapped the reins and raced toward the figure. Who ever it was, they started running away from the charging horse.

Clavileño whinnied as he stormed the trees. Antonio clung for dear life as he followed the figure. Ducking and weaving through the low branches, Antonio kept his eyes on the figure and the path ahead. He saw something glinting from under the figure’s cloak as they ran. Did they steal treasure from the dragon? The figure made a sharp turn into a large area of thicket that slowed Antonio down, but that didn't stop him or his horse. The boy lost sight of the figure but pressed forward.

The person couldn't have gotten far at all, but when Antonio and Clavileño burst out from the trees, they found themselves skidding backward in some mud away from the edge of a cliff. Antonio looked to the ground for footprints to track the mystery person. He went back through the thicket and tried to find some sign that he wasn't hallucinating. There were no prints other than the hoof prints left by his companion. Whoever it was seemed to vanish into thin air.

"Antonio you idiot!” Afonso snapped at him when he emerged from the woods. Afonso had caught up to him and he was pissed.

"Running in the trees like a rabbit while we're fleeing for our lives is the dumbest thing you've ever done! Come on!” Afonso continued to scold him.

"But–but I saw a person in there!” Antonio whimpered.

"No buts! Following some dumbass into the woods is no excuse! Now let's go!” Afonso barked and snapped the reins. Rocinante whinnied and ran. Antonio sighed and steered his horse to follow them. He swore then and there he would kill that thief and the dragon that took everything from him or die trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clavileño is the wooden horse in _El Ingenioso Hidalgo Don Quijote de la Mancha_ by Miguel de Cervantes. Rocinante is Don Quixote's horse. Just a tid bit of trivia.


	2. Shipping Off

Antonio stood on the docks and stared up at the man waving to him from the ship’s deck. The scar over his left eye crinkled when he smirked and his flowing hair cascaded over his shoulders like the ocean waves he sought to tame. To think a man of 24 would be the first mate on an old trading vessel full of men and women who had years more experience was incredible. Afonso couldn't be happier after ten years of training and fleeing. He was about to be reunited with his mistress, the sea.

Antonio watched the ship sail off and he stayed in the same spot until the last family he had was gone again. He eventually headed back toward the town to the tavern. If he didn't drink away his sorrows, the local entertainment would distract him before he left to find and slay Beryl. He was a knight, but he was by no means the pure paladin that his instructor hoped for–that's what Gilbert became, so it wasn't a total waste of time for Sir Berkhard.

The small coastal town of Port Sirena was close to the water to make life easier for the sailors. Each home and shop were separated by a narrow strip of land. The wood and thatched buildings were quaint and sturdy to handle the storms that occurred often enough. They were all lined up in two rows along a wide cobblestone street that became a dirt path as it neared the farms further inland. There was the butcher and the baker, the smiths and the tailors, a meeting hall, and the pride of any location–the tavern with rooms for let. Perfect.

Antonio entered a warm tavern full of life. A few heads turned when he entered but then they paid him no mind. Tables dotted the floor and they were all full, in the back there was a bar that called to him. He took a seat and signaled the barmaid over.

"What can I get for you Sir?” she asked. She had shoulder-length blonde hair and green eyes. She was pretty cute too. Antonio flashed a flirty smile and said,

"Please call me Antonio. Can I get your name, beautiful?”

"I'm Mrs. Emma Zwingli. Will that be all for tonight?” she giggled. Antonio blushed lightly–oops. He was about to ask for the strongest drink they had when a bit of commotion across the room caught their attention.

"Cheating thief!” a man with shoulder-length strawberry-blonde hair yelled. Then a man no older than twenty leapt onto the table and smirked. He was dressed plainly but he had a certain charm hidden in his golden eyes.

"Cheating thief? Where's your proof? Check my hand! Check the deck! I won fair and square!” the man huffed. His voice was rich and deep. Antonio was sure listening. The man watched the people at the table below him flip all the cards over. Nothing was out of place. But the angry man wasn't having it.

"I know your type you crafty snake! The cards were switched and you're hiding them!”

"Hiding them?” the man with the beautiful voice scoffed, no longer excited about his win at all. He turned out his pockets and shook the fabric. No cards fell. He shook out his sleeves with the same result.

"My brother is holding my money over there.” he pointed across the room, “so I can't dump the coin purse for you–we both know that's what you actually want. And you call me a thief! If I have to strip for you to see I didn't cheat, I will.” Antonio was immensely curious to see what would happen next. The accused might just find himself face to face with Antonio's backup sword later.

"You could have just asked me to get a room you know.” the young man purred when there was no reply. He jumped off the table to straddle his accuser, moving sensually. Then he slowly began to lift the bottom of his shirt to just above his abs, which were covered by a little pudge for cushioning.

"Should I continue? You look like you want to see more, and then some.” he hummed. Antonio wasn't gonna lie and say he wasn't curious. The accuser, however, relented.

"Goddammit Lovino! Get offa me! You didn't cheat! Put your shirt on! Take your money and go!” the man groaned. Lovino pulled his shirt down and collected his winnings. Antonio turned to Emma with a question.

"That's Lovino, one of our local bards. He and his brother sing here every night. He usually isn't this charming, though. Not to _certain_ men anyway” Emma said, unprompted, “What brings you to town Antonio? A quest?”

"This is the last port on this side of the ocean that I could see my brother off at. It's a side quest.” Antonio shrugged.

"What's the main quest, then?” she asked. As soon as she did she had to hold up a finger and tend to a different customer. Antonio smiled and waited patiently–he didn't get asked about his mission as often as one might guess. As soon as she came back he was ready to answer but…

"Hey bella!” Lovino called her over. Antonio was shocked to see him sitting right next to him, leaning on the bar with his head in his hand. He moved way too quietly and discreetly for someone with so much charisma.

"Causing trouble again, Lovi?” she smirked.

"I'm sure you saw the whole thing–trouble finds me! But I digress, any requests from the lovely woman working her tail off this fine evening?” Lovino smiled. Emma giggled and nodded.

"’Ode to Flame and Frost’ is one of my favorites, if you don't mind.” she replied. He stood up and bowed, brushing Antonio's side, before trotting a ways away. He picked up a lyre from one of the tables–one of the men sitting there had to be his brother. He strummed a few chords and cleared his throat. Antonio and Emma were only half listening.

"So tell me about your big mission Mr. Paladin.” Emma hummed as she wiped down the bar. Antonio shook his head.

"I'm not pure enough to be a paladin. Not when I want revenge.” Antonio admitted somewhat darkly. Emma nodded understandingly, having dealt with worse. She swayed her head back and forth as Lovino began to sing. It caught Antonio's attention.

_Born of ash and born of ice_

_Their scaly war did rage_

_No those two beasts could not play nice_

_And even had a battle staged_

_To claim that treasure they both sought_

_A goblet for warring dragons_

"Revenge, huh?” Emma asked as the verse ended and Lovino strummed away. He continued to sing about the feud between the lizards but Emma wanted to hear more. What was a handsome young knight like him doing looking for vengeance?

"Yeah, my entire village was murdered. My brother is all I have left.” Antonio cringed and rubbed his neck. He sounded like a cliche!

"You're right, a paladin would never consider killing a man for a mass murder.” she said. He couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not.

"A man? No. It was a monster. A creature as cold blooded and ruthless as they come. She froze everything and everyone–my brother and I escaped, we were lucky that the dragon didn't—” Antonio said, pausing as his blood ran cold. Lovino’s song was interesting again.

_A hooded thief, a stolen cup_

_Brought her out of hiding_

_Only two villagers had some luck_

_And escaped the glacier riding_

_A foolish colt and foolish mare_

_Escaping old Beryl’s frostbite!_

"Antonio?” Emma asked as he lost touch with his reality. He stood up rather abruptly. He smiled sheepishly back at her and reached for his coin purse on his belt to at least tip her for her time.

"I have to feed Clavileño, my horse. It's been a pleasure to chat with you, but I should—¡¿Qué coño?!” he began but then yelped when he realized his money was missing. That's when he noticed that the music stopped. He looked around and saw that the bard’s were short one–Lovino. That little thief!

Antonio calmly exited the tavern and scanned the street. Lovino was headed away from the shipyard, holding a coin purse. His coin purse! Antonio snapped and charged him. Lovino heard his battle cry and turned around just in time to get knocked on his back and straddled by a strong knight.

"You have something of mine. Return it.” Antonio snarled.

"Che cazzo!?” Lovino screeched.

"The man inside accused you of being a cheating thief. He was right. My money, if you don't mind.”

"I only ever denied being a cheater. He was partly right.” Lovino chuckled, “Why don't you let me hold onto it, I'll make it worth your while.” He winked. Antonio's frown worsened. Those bright green eyes were shooting venom into his soul. If he weren't so intimidating, the knight might have been hot–he might've gotten the money _and_ whatever else Lovino offered–seduction was not some trick reserved for bards.

Lovino scowled up at him, trembling with fear. Antonio glared at him unmoving. The man was scary! Lovino knew he couldn't get out of this with the money and his life.

"Okay, okay, you win. Take it.” the bard relented and tossed the bag aside. He held out his hands to show he wasn't holding anything else, but Antonio didn't get up to reclaim his gold. He kept staring Lovino down. He was incredibly handsome with sharp features, a strong jaw, piercing eyes, and flawless dark eyebrows–and Antonio was rather fond of their position.

"What else do you want from me?!” Lovino snapped, crying a little and bringing Antonio back to earth. He blinked a few times and huffed.

"What do you know about Beryl?”

"The ice dragon? Someone stole her treasure and she went nuts! She froze seven villages in two days and then she made a mourning nest on top of a mountain up north! The creatures and people up there are crazy–barbarians and wizards! And then there are robbers–with weapons, not twerps like me–and horrible magical traps!” Lovino rambled trying not to upset this knight further. Antonio relaxed his features and smirked. So the north was filled with foes that a sword couldn't defeat. A bard would be useful. Lucky him, there was one below him desperately trying to save his skin.

"Since you tried to rob me, it's only fair you repay me for that attempt.” he said, “You will come with me to the dragon’s nest, otherwise I'll have to cut that pretty little head from your shoulders.”

"Little?!” Lovino snapped and with a surprising amount of strength shoved Antonio off of him. He got up and brushed his clothes off and ran back to the tavern. Some dangerous man wanted to drag him along on a quest away from the town and everyone he'd ever known! Well he would be damned if Felicie didn't know and even more damned if he didn't bring some sort of instrument!

Antonio watched him run before grabbing his money and getting to his feet. He facepalmed and groaned. What the hell was that? Why did he just threaten that guy–sure he needed someone with his skills to survive, and having someone that cute along for the ride would be amazing, but threats would obviously scare anyone away! Was he so desperate to slay Beryl, enough to resort to that? His family would have been ashamed. He was definitely ashamed. He stood in the same place for what felt like hours, trying to get out of his funk–a distracted knight was useless on a mission!

"What the hell are you doing Sir Growls-a-lot?!” Lovino shouted at him as he left the tavern. It had only been a few minutes since he ran off, but he was back with a lyre on his back and a coin purse. Antonio looked up and beamed–he was back!

"I didn't expect to see you again!” Antonio laughed. Lovino blushed and pouted. This guy had a cute laugh.

"You assault and threaten me and you don't think I'm gonna take that seriously? I wanna keep my head where it belongs. It's got the second biggest part of me in there.” Lovino huffed and crossed his arms, not being totally honest.

"You mean your brain?” Antonio chuckled, “What's the biggest part?”

"Wouldn't you like to know.” Lovino winked. A bat flew overhead and chirped–it sounded oddly like a wolf-whistle. Antonio went bright red–this little shit! Lovino snickered and said,

"Are we going or what O valiant swinger of swords and moods?”

"Sir Antonio Fernández Carriedo. Call me Antonio, Lovi.” Antonio replied and began to walk toward his tied up horse. Lovino scurried along behind him a little annoyed by the nickname but content with his forming plan. Antonio was just the pawn he needed.

"I'm Romano Lovino-Vargas. Call me Lovino. Call me Romano. Not that ‘Lovi’ shit.” Lovino huffed. Antonio shrugged him off–it was hardly a threat coming from such a soft man. He was glad he would only have to deal with his flirty nature and bitterness until he killed Beryl. Lovino felt the same way. It might be the longest journey of their lives!

 

 

**Lovino with his CALABRIAN lyre**  
_Drawn by the talented sweetheart, Cous_  
~~_she has no idea how much I love this_~~


	3. The Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Heads up, there's violence_

"You’re an idiot, you know that?” Lovino complained while clinging to Antonio on the back of Clavileño. It was black as pitch that night and the forest paths were treacherous with the dim lantern Antonio held. The knight’s armor was cold like his disposition.

"If I'm an idiot, so are you. If you keep quiet, we won't be spotted.” Antonio whisper-yelled. He had done this type of thing many times, but without company. Lovino rested his forehead on Antonio's shoulder and tried not to scream. He agreed to accompany this jackass without any sleep!

Antonio kept his eyes peeled. He was already considering turning back and dropping this pain in the ass off back at that tavern. All he did was bitch and moan! First they only had one horse, then the horse was too tall! God forbid the road get bumpy! How many complaints could one man have?

"Left.” Lovino grumbled without lifting his head. Antonio spared a glance to his left and saw nothing. And he was the idiot here?

"Lovi—” he began to retort angrily, but Clavileño suddenly reared back and whinnied. Lovino clung to Antonio for dear life until the horse went back on all fours. Antonio was shocked to see a man with spiky blonde hair standing stoically in the middle of the path with a partially covered lantern. He looked threatening enough with a hand on his sword.

"Abel?! Piss off!” Lovino snapped, leaning around Antonio to yell at the man. Abel crossed his arms and scoffed, much to Antonio's surprise.

"Aren't you a little far from home–or are you trying to get even more out of him than the cash he's carrying, you little thief?” Abel spat. Lovino gritted his teeth and jumped from the horse, like a fool.

"Lovino!” Antonio groaned. This guy was going to get killed before dawn! Bard or not, there's no reason to face a person with a sword unarmed.

"Aren't you a little too close to home to rob unsuspecting travelers? Imagine what Emma would say! This is why I stopped joining you–it's too risky. She would have our heads if I told her.” He said with a coy smirk, though his eye was twitching. Abel wasn't having any of his shit and drew his sword. Antonio was quick to follow but paused. Lovino was laughing wickedly.

"Do it, kill me for about three simoleons and a zumma. I'm sure Felice will find out, and hunt you down. So will Emma. Imagine losing your best friend at the hands of your brother!” he jeered. Abel scowled and eyed Antonio.

"Don't even try it! He has no money, I should know.” Lovino hummed. Antonio patted down his sides and cursed under his breath. When and how did he snatch his money again?!

"What the hell are you doing out here?” Abel asked and sheathed his weapon. Antonio did the same but held the hilt just in case.

"Well good old ‘blue prince’ here is my ‘captor.’ He's gonna kill a dragon. Nothing to crazy.” Lovino shrugged. Abel squinted and studied Lovino’s face. The guy was a great liar. Nothing was out of the ordinary except for the crescents under his eyes.

"You look like a prison rat.” Abel sneered and turned his attention to Antonio. The knight was annoyed and confused–anyone could read that on his face, even with so little light.

"Don't hurt this brat–” Abel said and Lovino scoffed, “–or else you'll find an angry marksman, a skilled robber, a mage, a salty sailor, and a pissed of barmaid at your door. I don't care if you're some epic protagonist destined to save the world—no one gets away with harming the Vargas boys.” Lovino counted the people off on his fingers: Basch was the marksman, he was looking at the robber, Henri was a mage and Abel's brother, and obviously Emma was the barmaid…who was the sailor?

"Funny you say that. You held him at sword point.” Antonio retorted. Lovino rolled his eyes–did this knight not understand a thing?

"Shape shifting goblins love these trees. There are ways to tell if someone is who they appear to be.” Abel frowned.

"And how do you know I'm not a goblin?” Antonio scoffed.

"I'm allergic to their magic dust.” Lovino butted in irately, “Now, Spikes, help me back on this horse and tell me who that sailor you mentioned is.” Abel picked Lovino up and situated him behind Antonio.

"He just set sail today. You don't know him–be glad you don't. Now, if you don't mind, I have to get back to my work.” Abel said and backed away.

"Ciao.” Lovino sighed. He needed a nap! Antonio and Abel nodded to each other in recognition and Antonio snapped the reins. Abel watched until they were out of sight before hiding in the woods.

* * *

 

"Lovino,” Antonio asked as dawn approached. Lovino grunted, half asleep. He was still clinging to him but without the same vice grip as before.

"How did you know he was coming? That Abel guy–I couldn't see him and I had the lantern.”

"I heard him.” Lovino yawned, “It's a trick of the trade.”

"Good hearing–okay but which trade? Thievery or music?” Antonio pouted. He wished he could have heard that guy, but Abel was so quiet!

"I can't tell if you're that stupid or that bitter–music obviously. Bard magic is fucking wild.” Lovino scoffed and lifted his head. The orange that began to filter through the leaves made the forest seem almost peaceful. The rising sound of songbirds chirping set Antonio at ease, but they annoyed Lovino. Both men needed to sleep.

"Can we stop in the next town? I'm about to pass the fuck out!” Lovino whined. Antonio could hardly argue that point.

"Give me my money back, and we’ll rent a room.” Antonio countered. Lovino groaned and pulled the purse from his belt.

"You didn't notice I had it until I had to point it out! What the hell man?” he scowled. Antonio took his purse back and tied it to his belt quickly so he could steer Clavileño. He had no reply, just a question:

"When did you even find the time to take it?” Antonio looked back at Lovino over his shoulder. Lovino snorted and shook his head. He paid the rustling in the underbrush no mind and smirked.

"Obviously while we were on our way, you were distracted—a—” Lovino's face twisted as a humongous sneeze took over his entire body, “ACHOOOOOOOO!”

"Tony!? Is that you?” a familiar voice shouted. Antonio looked up ahead and saw a knight with red eyes and white hair. He was atop a black mare and wore a cocky grin. Antonio beamed–it was Gilbert!

"Gilbert! It's me!” Antonio called. He got a good smack in the back of the head for doing so.

"Slice off his hea—a—ACHOOOO!–his head. Now.” Lovino growled quietly. Antonio scoffed and slowly approached his friend. This bard was a nuisance! He batted Lovino's hand away from his weapon as they neared the albino.

"You idiot!” Lovino snarled at him, though he was even less threatening sounding with a stuffy nose. He stopped when they were right next to each other and smiled,

"Gil, it's been so long!”

"It sure has! Lucky for you the amazing me is here!” Gilbert laughed. The laughter was cut short when the sound of a sword being drawn hissed.

"Adios.” Antonio frowned and cut through Gilbert's neck, his head falling to the ground. There was no blood but the entire image of the valiant paladin on his noble steed melted into a puddle of bluish black goo.

"Fu–u—Fuck off!” Lovino snapped at the goo. It rose up to about Antonio's eye level and took a stocky humanoid shape with pointed ears on its oblong head and a giant pointy nose its arms were three times as long as its stumpy legs and it turned a sickly green color. The goblin glared at Lovino as Antonio slipped off Caliveño on the side away from the green monster.

"Puny human! You can't even look at me without sneezing! What are you gonna do?!” the goblin cackled. Its voice was deep and hollow and it crackled like a campfire when it spoke.

"I'm gonna distract your dumbass from the thing that will kill you if you don't go!” Lovino huffed and crossed his arms, only to flail them out again with yet another sneeze that morphed into a sneezing fit. That got the goblin to double over and collapse from laughter. The idiot had no idea that Antonio was creeping up with his sword ready. He hoisted his arms back and thrust into the goblin’s back with all his might. The sword went through the goblin like a hot knife through butter and the tip dug into the ground.

"How the fuck—?!” Lovino yelped when Antonio smiled at him and took his sword back. He kicked the corpse aside, avoiding the thick brown goo oozing from the wound. He climbed back on the horse and snapped the reins, not answering Lovino. Bad idea.

"You're not gonna tell me how you managed to kill that thing so easily when it's flesh is as dense as an oak?” Lovino huffed as they neared a small town.

"I guess I'm that strong!” Antonio chuckled dryly, “I do have a dragon to slay!”

"Remind me to keep quiet next time.” Lovino grumbled. He was sure that he would never get a real answer from Antonio–only more questions. Oh what a false assumption!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Now I'm scared I'm gonna disappoint you from here on~~


	4. Revealing

By some miracle, Lovino convinced Antonio to leave the town and tavern at dawn instead of dusk. The knight wanted to go as soon as they awoke–which meant Antonio was going to wake Lovino as soon as he was up. It was safer this way. 

The host was certainly kind enough and offered them a room, the last one available. There was one bed in a small space. Lovino was adamant about building a wall of pillows between them. Antonio couldn't argue that. He needed a clear head on this journey. Unfortunately for Lovino that meant clearing out his thoughts verbally. 

"I wonder how my brother is…” Antonio mused as he stared at the ceiling. Lovino grunted as he tried to fall asleep. Antonio glanced across the room at his armor piled haphazardly against the wall and sighed. 

"It's not the best time of year to be out at sea. He's kind of an ass but I would hate it if he got into trouble. He saved me from getting frozen to death.” Antonio continued, half aware that Lovino could hear him. And boy did he hear that! Lovino's eyes shot open. 

"You're the villagers from the song!” he gasped and shot up. He peered over the pillow-wall at a very much naked knight. That didn't register due to his realization. 

"Hmm? I guess my brother and I are…” Antonio pouted, “Do you have any idea what it's like to lose everything except for a brother who doesn't like you?”

"Try that with two who like you but they're the ones people like–the ones they want to hear.” Lovino sank back onto his side and scowled. Antonio sat up and peeked over at him.

"You have two brothers?” Antonio asked, holding off on asking about his loss. That could wait unless Lovino slipped up. There was no need for any more unnecessary sadness. 

"Felice and Marcello—they're the best bards in the area. They never had to steal to eat, people always tip them so well. And here I am trying to sing for tips and I get next to nothing. Nonno would be ashamed to see me robbing and gambling but I don't have any other useful skills and I have to survive. I don't have the right voice for the job.” Lovino huffed and rolled onto his side. He was saying too much but he could hardly contain it all.

"But your voice is so beautiful—it's rich and soulful. Who wouldn't want to hear it?” Antonio chuckled. Lovino swung around and smacked him in the face with a pillow. Antonio yelped and fell on his back. 

"Shut up! You sound just like him, and he was wrong too!!” Lovino hissed before curling up under the blanket with nothing more to say. He pretended to be asleep while Antonio rambled:

“Don’t be mad, please! I didn’t mean to offend you! But it’s true! I’ve heard a ton of people talking and singing, bards and not bards, and none of them sound as amazing! Whoever it was that said you sound beautiful was right! And then there's the whole seduction aspect! You are just so good at that! Who was this guy, an ex-boyfriend? That would explain a lot! At least I think it would...I don’t have the time for romance, except for maybe one night stands.” he sighed as he slowed near the end and ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t want a soul in the world to slow him down, only Afonso’s shore leaves ever stopped him. Love and romance were simply out of the question. 

“I would love to be able to settle down one day and raise a little farm, meet someone who would be as crazy about me as I would be of them, maybe have a few kids—just to be able to turn in the armor and go back to the lifestyle that lizard ruined. Yeah, I'd be able to salvage and rebuild.”

"You wanna find a nice girl?” Lovino scoffed, giving up on pretending to be asleep. The man was not quiet when he was monologing in the slightest. He toyed with the hem on his sleeves irately, waiting for an angry remark or a stupid comment. Antonio let out a breathy laugh. 

"Boy, girl, anyone really—as long as we love each other. Why, do you know someone who might be the one?” Antonio mused. Lovino curled into himself and laughed dryly.

"What? Did I miss something?”

"You kidnapped me, threatened to cut my head off, and killed a goblin without flinching and you're talking about finding the one! With those tactics you're shit outta luck, Mr. Knight-in-Stained-Armor!” Lovino replied curtly. Antonio pouted and peeked at the bitter man facing away from him, curled in a fetal position.

"You don't know me. I'm not just some blood thirsty jerk! I could say you're a whiny diva with an insatiable lust for money. I'm at least giving you a chance to prove me wrong there! And you agreed to join me. I was gonna let you stay  _ and _ keep your head.” Antonio huffed and rolled over. 

"Didn’t seem like you would have at the time! Don't ask me if I know anyone who would be interested in you if I don't know you well _and_ expect a positive answer.” Lovino grumbled, 

“‘Night.” He added and fell asleep almost instantly. Antonio took a deep breath and sighed. He just couldn't win with this man!—yet something in the back of his mind nagged him to try. Something about winning against the bard–with him, brought about a new excitement. He heard Lovino snore softly and closed his eyes. That evening he would be the fun guy he used to be before his final training. He would prove his companion wrong. 


	5. The Shift

Lovino woke up before Antonio. He got up and took off his shirt. He looked down and watched as his entire body changed into a female one. He moved the necklaces hiding against his skin off and held them up to his face. One was a clear cross of ankh-shaped charm. He frowned at the small round charm hanging from the other chain. The red gemstone looked like a reptilian eye but the back had a painful inscription:

_She who holds their eye will have the power to put an end to their misery_

Lovino knew that the necklace was not an amulet, at least not for him some of the time. A family heirloom, Nonno said, that was the most important part of their history. It slayed attacking dragons when worn by a Vargas woman. That was the only catch. He took it off and reached for his coin purse to pull out a cloth bandage to bind his chest into place. He made sure it was snug, but not too tight and replaced his shirt.

Lovino was blessed and cursed, his body would hold a male form as long as he wore the charm and kept up with his payments. It saved some dysphoria but made long journeys like this one difficult. He, or at the time, she made a bargain with the undead. She could physically change her body to match her true gender, which often changed, in exchange for her blood. Fortunately he didn’t bite her. But the needle that drew said blood was strange and terrifying.

"Lovino?” Antonio yawned, bringing Lovino back to the present. Lovino didn't turn around but he hid the necklaces and crossed his arms.

"Put some clothes on so we can go downstairs. The tavern opens at dusk and one of us needs to earn some money before the morning.” Lovino huffed. Antonio got up and dressed in his tunic and pants–the armor could wait until dawn.

"Aw, you don't wanna see this body?” Antonio teased. Lovino rolled his eyes.

"Ragazzo…” he growled. Antonio chuckled and finished dressing before he tapped Lovino on the shoulder. When Lovino turned around it was like he was looking at a different person. Antonio was plainly dressed and wearing a boyish smile that was completely disarming, especially with his messy hair. Lovino rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, just to be sure this was the same knight.

“Let’s go earn some cash!” Antonio cheered, “If you can’t sing a profit alone, I’ll dance for you!” Lovino stared at him for a long minute and dropped his shoulders.

“Are you a dick all the time or just when you’re tired and vengeful?” Lovino gawked. Antonio laughed and shrugged.

“Probably!—Hey wait, you look different.” He said and studied Lovino closely. The bard internally panicked, afraid that his charms wouldn’t work if this crazy knight saw right through him. Was it his hips that would give him away? No it had to be his chest–even when bound it looked bigger, but usually he could pass it off as muscle.

“Maybe it’s just because you aren’t looking at me like an angry jackass.” Lovino scoffed with a small hitch in his voice. There was no way he was using his charms but Antonio merely smiled and nodded.

“You’re probably right! Now let’s go!” Antonio grabbed Lovino’s arm and ran out of the room with his stunned companion in tow. Lovino wondered what he had gotten himself into.

* * *

 

The tavern was just as cozy as the one back home, only with different faces and a different bartender—and no bards. There was no music except for the folk songs people sang (badly) when they were plastered. This might be the perfect place for Lovino to succeed!

Antonio and Lovino entered the tavern and saw it was empty save for a barmaid preparing the counter. She grinned when she saw them and waved them over. Naturally the pair approached, ready to charm her, but something was oddly familiar about her on closer inspection–long brown hair and impish jade eyes and something else.

"Ciao bella, you look lovely this evening.” Lovino cooed and leaned against the bar. She smirked at him and set the rag she was using aside.

"Thank you Lovino, have you and Antonio gotten enough rest?” she replied and giggled at their shocked faces. Lovino knew that voice. Oh! Lovino understood right away.

"I don't mean to be rude, but I don't believe we've met.” Antonio said, “But since you know our names, what should we call you?”

"Eli is always a safe choice but please call me Erszi as well.” she hummed and then commented, “You look so much more rested than this morning! I thought you were berserk zombies when you showed up!” She laughed softly and watched Antonio squirm where he stood.

"Sorry Eli, but we spoke with a man with a cool mustache this morning–was he your twin?” Antonio tried to make sense of the situation. Lovino cleared his throat and stood up straight, ready to run if needed.

"What did you use to get that mustache?” Lovino asked curiously. If Erszi didn't hit him, Antonio would—how rude! Eli grinned and laughed.

"Just some of my own hair and a little paste!” she replied, leaving Antonio hopelessly lost.

"Your radiance transcends this world, and it is as fluid as you are.” Lovino mused and leaned on the bar again with complete confidence, “But we came down with the hopes of providing entertainment for the evening, not just to flatter you.”

“We could use a little bit of that…” Eli mused, “I suppose I could allow you for the night, as long as you don’t start any fights.”

“I don’t start them, but I make damn sure I finish them quickly.” Lovino winked. Erszi chuckled and nodded. A bard like him would certainly earn his keep for the previous night for him and his bodyguard. Lovino was just what the tavern needed–it’s not everyday you meet a shapeshifter with a great voice!

Erszi knew from the moment she saw Lovino that he had this ability. While it was the first time she met _him_ , she could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice–Romana Lovino wasn’t someone she could easily forget, after all, but she could remember that face. It was good he had a bodyguard on this journey, whatever it was for. She was curious to see what this bard could do!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Lovino is gender-fluid and switches between pronouns._


	6. The Blood Pact

When the tavern was filled, it was packed. Eli was kind enough to keep a table clear for Lovino to perform on. And perform he did. His songs filled the room faster than the liquor and his voice, higher this time, was still so smooth and hypnotic. He was earning more than enough in tips to cover their stay. Erzsi was impressed, even while knowing the raw talent that stemmed from the Vargas line. Antonio, despite only knowing this man for a day, was anything but surprised by his talent--just the change in his voice.

Antonio took to the floor and danced with whoever wanted to try and keep up with him. The women absolutely adored having such handsome young man gracing the room with such elegance and talent. His moves were so swift and his rhythm was so in tune with Lovino’s music, it was hard not to watch.

It was utterly amazing to Lovino to see this knight–this mean, hardened man on the hunt for vengeance–dancing and flirting with anyone and everyone who he came in contact with. His smile was as bright as the stars and his laughter was so symphonic it could have seduced a person faster than any bard magic. The way his dark curls bounced with each swift movement was far more beautiful than anything Lovino would ever admit to have seen. Was he attracted to this man? Yes, but given the circumstances Lovino refused to let that attraction blind him to the dark side of this knight.

“Hey bard!” a man shouted from the crowd late in the evening, “Got room for my awesome flute?” Lovino spotted the man approaching and scowled. The man was an albino with an ego and he wanted nothing to do with him. When the man finally got to the table, he was eager for an answer.

“No but I could stand a break,” Lovino mused, “and a drink. Care to take over for a while?” The man seemed to light up when Lovino said that, as if he were really only interested in a solo. He was.

“Of course! It’s a paladin’s duty to assist those in need!” he laughed, “I’m Sir Gilbert Beilschmidt, nice to meet you, Lovino.” He held out his hand to help Lovino get down.

“How—?” Lovino gasped as he jumped from the table, ignoring Gilbert’s offer to help.

“Eli might have mentioned some things when I came in.” Gilbert shrugged, unfazed, “It’s not everyday you meet one of the rare Vargas bards.”

“They’re everywhere, trust me. My grandfather had a lot of sisters. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Lovino said, trying not to be too harsh to this guy, who was giving him a chance to stretch and get a drink. He grabbed his coin purse from the table and wove through the crowd to the bar. He could see Eli serving her customers but her brow was furrowed as if something terrible had happened. When he got to the bar, Eli went straight to him with a full glass of red wine.

“I’m not surprised you made a deal, but why with him?” she hissed.

“He was the only one who could back home. He’s here, right? I have to drink this and go to the room he paid for?”

“Outside, actually. That bastard is not welcome here. He sent Gilbert to do his dirty work!”

“It’s not dirty work, it’s a legally binding contract.”

“Legally binding or not, that asshole shouldn’t be stalking you!” Erszi huffed irately. Lovino shrugged and chugged the glass of wine, much to Erszi’s horror. He set the glass down and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

“I told Vlad I was headed this way, I know what I owe him.” he scoffed, “We can talk about how much we hate him later.” Erszi gawked at him as he walked away, through the crowd. From his perch on the table, Gilbert fought back a smirk over a job well done. Lovino was careful to be inconspicuous as possible when he stepped outside. Antonio saw him leave and pouted, much to the annoyance of his dance partner.

“Thanks for flying out here on such short notice.” Lovino said once he hit the street. A bat overhead chirped and looped over his head once before flying into the alleyway next to the bar. Lovino followed him. In the dim shadows he could see the outline of a man, or what looked like a man, with red eyes and shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair. He smiled at the bard, revealing two sharp fangs.

“Hello Lovino,” he said cheerfully, “I have to say, you couldn’t have picked a worse tavern! Eli, that bitch, banned me.”

“I get it, you hate each other’s guts. Let’s make this quick, Vladimir.” Lovino groaned and rolled up his sleeve.

“How long will you be away from Port Sirena?” Vlad asked curiously.

“Another year at most.” Lovino replied, trying not to tug at his binding. The alcohol was starting to kick in.

“In that case, I’ll take 1 liter this time and then after a year, I can’t promise you’ll stay like that.” Vlad hummed, “You’ll feel a little dizzy for a while.”

“Just take it.” he sneered and thrust out his arm. Vladimir shrugged and pulled a scarf from his long coat and tied it snuggly around Lovino’s bicep. He pulled a needle attached by a tube to a plastic bag–a novelty vampiric tool most people never saw. Lovino, in fact, had never seen something quite like this before. Fear was written on his face.

“Don’t worry! The needle is the same as before!” Vlad reassured as he pushed said needle into a vein, “I wish I didn’t buy you a drink! You’re gonna be so dizzy!” He undid the tourniquet and watched the bag and Lovino.

“You like to taste the wine. How were you supposed to know that the guy who left suddenly was gonna go on some bullshit adventure when he literally fucking told you?” Lovino spat sarcastically and watched the bag fill.

“I forgot, I’m sorry! Let me know if you need something to balance on.” Vlad huffed. The bag was more than halfway full. He never told Lovino that the red wine was to thin his blood. It made the extraction quicker and it saved Lovino some of his own fluids.

“Where do you get these weird magic things?” Lovino asked and swayed slightly. Vlad hooked an arm under Lovino’s to balance him.

“The web. We’re almost done.” Vlad replied. Lovino dared not ask what giant spider gave these things out. Not that Vlad would answer that question.

“Hold still.” Vlad ordered. He pressed the scarf to Lovino’s arm and had him press it to his arm. He pulled out the needle and put a cap on it. Then he hid the blood bag in his coat.

“Am folosit un traducător.” he whispered then said, “Your amulet should stay full for a year.” He let go of him and took over pressing the cloth to the bard’s arm so Lovino could pull the cross of ankh charm. He did and it was black rather than clear. That’s when Lovino’s body changed back to male. He wheezed when his bindings became too tight. Vlad removed the scarf and hid it in his coat before expertly removing the cloth binding the bard. He rolled it while Lovino caught his breath.

“You’ll need this if you’re gone longer.” Vlad gave him the bandage. Lovino took it with a shaking hand and stuffed it in his coin purse. He bent his arm a couple times and nodded to the vampire.

“See you later, snaggletooth!” Lovino scoffed and walked away. As he stumbled to the entrance, a bat chirped and flew overhead. Lovino flipped him off and stumbled into the lively tavern. He was surprised when he was swept off his feet and pulled into a strong chest.

“You’re not getting away that easily.” Antonio chuckled darkly. Lovino looked up at him while the room spun around at an alarming rate. The knight was far from menacing at this point with his messy hair and coy grin.

“You think I’m stupid enough to run away from _you_?” Lovino grunted as Antonio led him across the floor. Gilbert was playing a slow song, much to Lovino’s luck. He was shaking so badly Antonio could tell.

“You don’t have to come with me out of fear.” Antonio pouted. Perhaps it was just the blood loss getting to him, but seeing this man looking vulnerable made Lovino’s heart skip a beat.

“I’m not scared.” he huffed, slurring a bit. Antonio was practically dragging him around as he stumbled. The knight let out a long sigh and shook his head.

“I can’t take your word for it when you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk! If I were, I’d be humping something or someone!” Lovino hissed, “And last I checked I’m not.”

“Then why is a thieving bard coming with me?” Antonio asked with a teasing air in his voice–anything to get the image of this cutie under him.

“Think about it.” Lovino said, glaring at him. The knight smirked at him, clearly misunderstanding his motives. He hummed and led his dizzy companion in a slow dance, unaware that the usual patrons were on their way out. The music had stopped and Gilbert was sitting on the table, watching them.

“You can’t let me go, you want me.” he finally said after a long silence between them.

“I want you to let go of me, I want to go to sleep, and I want you to stop thinking with your dick.” Lovino snarled and tore away. He stumbled backward, nearly falling, until he crashed into a particularly hard body. It was armor. Tilting his head back, he was looking directly into the eyes of one cocky paladin.

“Looks like you went overboard!” he said with a smirk. Loving scowled at him. He laughed and called out to Erszi at the bar:

“Lovino needs a little help getting to his room! Would you mind?” Eli hurried over wearing a serious frown to match Lovino. When she got to him, she picked him up bridal style and carried him off. He was too drained to fight back or complain. Antonio watched the scene unfold, dumbfounded. Once his traveling companion was gone he was ready to squeal.

“Mr. Vengeance, funny seeing you here!” Gilbert greeted and crossed his arms. He wasn't exactly thrilled to see his old friend, but it wasn't glaringly obvious.

“I know! I missed you amigo!” Antonio squealed and forcefully embraced him, complete with a giddy running start.

“Let go Antonio. I'm not friends with kidnappers.”

“I--I gave him the opportunity to leave. I'm not forcing him to stay.” Antonio wilted.

“How did you get him to join you? A villager from Port Sirena mentioned it was more of an abduction with _his_ life on the line. What the hell happened to you?” Gilbert scoffed and stared at him piteously, “Where is the loving, playful man who knew the difference between right and wrong in its most basic sense? The Antonio I started training with knew that people weren’t pawns in his game of revenge.”

“If you think it’s a game and that I’m not worth anything as a knight, why are you talking to me and why aren’t you dragging Lovino home?” Antonio pressed, heartbroken. His best friend, his only friend for years, Gilbert wanted nothing to do with him.

“Because I made a promise to an old friend, once. I returned the Estmere stones to the hidden lake, and now that my quest is complete, I’m going to help you with your dragon. I celebrated victory enough tonight.”

“Gil?” he gasped.

“My word is gold, and untarnished. Just because you became an ass doesn’t mean I’m going back on our blood pact.”

“Thank you.” Antonio breathed with tears in his eyes, “We ride at dawn.”

 

****

**Antonio dancing while Lovino plays his Lyre**  
_by the same sweetheart as before, Cous_  
~~_I'm never gonna be over this_ ~~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I'm scared I'm making more of a mess of this au with every chapter. thanks for continuing to read_


	7. Out of the Woods

Antonio woke before the orange hues of morning crept in to wake him. He sat up, and ran a hand through his hair before looking down at his naked body. The pearly scars that crisscrossed his body stood out on his tan skin.  One stood out to him among the rest. A short slash on his left arm was a result of a promise he didn't keep. He said he would be there for Gilbert on his quest. He swore to honor his training from Berkhard. And here he was, sitting next to a pillow-wall next to the bard he kidnapped! He dared not look over.

“If you're up, put some pants on!” a deep voice rumbled irately. Antonio sighed and got up, not caring if he was on display. He pulled on his trousers and tunic, and sat down again. He pulled on his socks and boots in silence.

“Are you gonna be a dick again?” Lovino said sitting up. Antonio glanced over his shoulder and smiled softly at the shirtless bard. Goddammit he was cute! But it wasn't his stocky form that caught Antonio's eye–it was the pair of amulets around his neck.

“Maybe.” he answered before asking his own question, “Do you always wear those?” Lovino glanced down and shrugged,

“Wouldn't you like to know?” Lovino huffed and turned to pick his shirt from the floor. Toño figured that they were more valuable to Lovino than they were to the market. He decided not to question the cross of Ankh, but the pendant with a dragon's eye was far too curious. How did a bard come across a charm like that–an eye of Xanthous?

“Only about the eye. It's not just a necklace.” Antonio said cautiously, unsure if Lovino knew what power he held.

“It was my mother's. It's useless, alright? Let's go.” Lovino huffed. He had no intention of telling anyone the whole truth.

“We won't leave until dawn. Sir Beilschmidt is coming with us. He’s bringing food.” Antonio said as he laced his boots. Lovino groaned–it was going to be a fun journey!

* * *

 

The cold morning air was far from welcome for one Romano Lovino-Vargas. He was the one clinging to cold metal. The waking woodlands would have been serene with rays of orange and yellow cascading through the leaves. But no, he was on the back of a dark mare with the knight he trusted, the paladin. He loathed having to cling to Gilbert, but at least _he_ was the one with a clean heart. Antonio didn’t seem to mind much as they traveled side-by-side. They rode along the winding path until midday in silence, but then Gilbert opened his fat mouth.

“So Romano, why are you here? I mean, a bard fighting a dragon? It’s kinda crazy.”

“I was drafted.” Lovino grunted. He knew this albino was up to something, and he did not like it. Of course, the same could be said about Gilbert’s thoughts about Lovino.

“Hmm, I thought you could leave at anytime.” Gil hummed. Antonio shot him a death-glare, challenging him to say another word. Challenge accepted with a smirk.

“I can, but I’m not leaving.” Lovino shrugged.

“Why’s that?” Antonio asked, suddenly extremely curious, and surprisingly elated.

“That’s my business. As they say, silence is _golden_.” Lovino responded with a wink in his direction. He turned his head to face the road and hide the light blush dusting his features. That bard was working his magic on him, what else could it be?

“I see…” Gilbert said to himself. Dragon treasure was certainly worth more than anything the bard could earn in a lifetime. Golden indeed.

Silence fell over the three again. It was welcome to the bard so he could listen for danger if it came. The shapeshifting goblins were only awake at night but they were clever and had friends.

 

“Overhead!” Lovino shouted and clung to the paladin in front of him. Antonio looked to Lovino and was hit by a pang of possessive emotions that he couldn't quite place. Gilbert followed the bard’s directions and watched as three long, spindly figures descended from the canopy via vines. They were green with patches of bark dotting their skin. They landed in front of Clavileño, and more importantly, Antonio.

“This sir. I him watch your spawn dying.” the shortest of the three squawked in a high pitched voice. The tallest, who had to be 12 feet tall stepped forward and plucked a stunned, distracted knight from his horse with one crusty grayish green hand, pressing the knight’s arms to his sides. As soon as he felt his body being moved, Antonio flailed and tried to escape, kicking like mad.

“Tony!” Gilbert shouted to no avail. Lovino was too busy gawking and processing what was happening. Three tree-goblins were after a killer, Antonio's sword reeked of the goblin blood from before. Tree-goblins were the most spiteful, yet honorable breed. He had an idea.

“You spore kill. Can’t but them in eye looking.” The tallest boomed. Gilbert face palmed, unsure how to deal with his friend’s stupidity. Speaking of which, Lovino did the stupidest thing since agreeing to come on this journey, and leapt from the horse.

“Hey—!” Gilbert shouted, Lovino flipped him off it shut him up real quick. He was a man with a plan, and Gilbert was too curious to see where it would go.

“Hey! Campfire-breath!” he shouted at the goblin, who glared down at him with fiery orange eyes, “I'm the one who killed your spore! That pawn is under my control!” The middle goblin, who only had one ear knelt to Lovino’s level and jabbed him with a finger.

“Uncultured for wizard being.” it scoffed.

“Small is brain for having!” Lovino replied, “Bard is title for having.”

“Bard?” one-ear repeated, annoyed. The shortest hurried over to see the other get roasted.

“Sing I, magic. Him control. I kill spore.”

“You had no weapon for with to kill, little man.” the shortest laughed. Lovino’s hands balled into fists and his eye twitched.

“Little?!” he hissed under his breath. Never call Romano Lovino-Vargas ‘little’ and expect everything to be okay.

“My weapon was him. You saw the moment that Spore died. You heard me too. That was a mind control spell. I killed that goblin.” Lovino barked at the shortest, who had the best grasp on English.

“You sneeze!” it scoffed, not believing a word.

“Do I have to demonstrate?” Lovino snarled, “I can make these two men do anything I want.” The shortest looked to the tallest and motioned it to put Antonio on the ground. Gilbert took the hint to get off his horse and grab the reins. Calvileño was happy to stay and wait for Antonio–he had seen too much in his life to leave his only companion.

“Blood sword wanting.” the tallest boomed. Lovino nodded and turned to Antonio, staring him down. Antonio, irate and ornery as he was, had to follow Lovino’s instructions. The ice that shot out of that man’s eyes was more terrifying than Beryl’s frostbite. He swallowed thickly and nodded to Lovino without drawing attention to his actions. Lovino cleared his throat.

“T—a–ake a—a–off you—your bel—el–t!” Lovino said, mimicking his over-dramatic sneezes from two nights before. Antonio made his face blank and he mechanically removed the belt holding his sword and money. He held it up for Lovino to see. Lovino smirked.

“Gi—give ih–it—to–to the–the–tall—!” he said through another dramatic fake sneeze. Antonio fought back a scowl and turned to hold out the belt to the tallest. Losing the sword and money was just as much a death sentence–why did he listen to this jackass? The goblin took it with a sickening laugh and looped it around it’s thin waist. Lovino motioned to the horses while the goblins laughed. Gil and Antonio climbed on their respective beasts of burden. Lovino inched toward them, paying close attention to the belt buckle, which rested on the goblin’s hip. Perfect.

“Happy?” he asked the trio as Gilbert helped him onto the black mare. The tolls nodded as they continued to laugh. Their vines slowly lifted them off the ground to let the adventurers through.

Lovino kicked the mare, who whinnied and reared back. Antonio and Clavileño made a mad dash past the goblins as soon as they heard the whinny, much to the knight’s chagrin. Gilbert squawked as his mare landed and thundered toward the tallest goblin. Lovino smirked at the amateurs and jumped to stand on the horse’s haunches. reached out. He undid and grabbed the belt and sword before the goblins knew what hit them. Their vines were coiling faster and faster, it would be hard to catch the little thief at this rate.

“You bastard!” Gilbert laughed as Lovino fell onto his ass and held onto the paladin. They caught up to Antonio, while still going at top speed.

“Just get us out of the trees!” Lovino screamed. Any second those goblins would hit the ground and run. After them. Antonio roared and forged ahead, leading the party away from the imminent danger. Gilbert snapped the reins and Lovino clung to him for dear life.

Hooves pounded the dirt and branches whipped past the riders barreling through the forest. Lovino held onto the belt so tightly that his knuckles were white. He could hear them, the goblins, their delicate stomps were closing in.

Antonio suddenly veered left, toward the sea. Without a sword he couldn't fight, but he knew the call of the sea almost as well as his brother did. The goblins couldn't leave the woods for long. If that didn't stop them, then the salt water would.

Hooves met sand and without warning, Clavileño veered off course and charged the sea. Gilbert followed without hesitation, bursting through the trees toward the water. Lovino sealed his eyes shut as sand, and eventually seawater, threatened to hit his pretty face.

Antonio slowed his horse when they were in the oddly rough water, and turned to face the forest. Gilbert and Lovino came to a halt next to him. The goblins emerged from the trees, seething with rage, but only two could go more than a meter on the sand. It burned their feet and they shrieked in defeat, crawling back into their home.

“Why didn't you defend me?” Antonio snapped at Gilbert once the threat was gone. Gilbert shot him a cold glare.

“Who am I to stand in the way of justice?” Gilbert hissed, “I have my duty to uphold, and protecting your corrupt ass isn't part of it.”

“I lost my only defense! My sword is gone because of you and a foul-mouthed puto!” Antonio shouted, causing his horse to rear back in protest.

“Foul-mouthed puto? And what about me?!” Lovino scoffed and tossed the belt to Antonio, who caught it in his lap and gawked at it, and then Lovino. The bard looked more insulted and even hurt than Antonio had ever seen. His heart fell into the pit of his stomach.

“I saved your life, puto. And your sword. You're fucking welcome!” Lovino growled then added to Gil, “Let's go, the dragon won't slay itself.” Gilbert nodded and snapped the reins, heading north.

Antonio watched them continue on in the wet sand. He ran his fingers over the belt and gingerly buckled it around his waist. Lovino knew what he was doing the whole time. Lovino was a thief at heart, and Antonio not only doubted him, he yelled at him for saving their skin. He was such an asshole!

He snapped the reins in his trance, and let his horse lead the way back to his companions. He would apologize in due time. Hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *goblins aren't stupid, it's a language barrier.


	8. Fear and Confusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess which dumbass can't post their fic in order!

Antonio rode ahead of them on the shore where the water was too tired to touch anymore. His realization after the goblins tried to attack only made him want to move faster, farther away from his party. That party just would not let him go! Lovino held onto Gilbert's saddle and looked out at the sea as they tried to catch up without exhausting the mare. The dark clouds looming in the distance made his stomach churn. Gilbert wasn't any better, not in this area. He looked back at Lovino and smirked to hide his own anxiety.

“Scared of the ocean?” he asked. Lovino scowled at him and shook his head. The distant waves rising and falling were oddly calming. The saltwater kissing the mare’s hooves was hypnotic. The scent of the sea reminded Lovino of home. What on Earth would scare him about his favorite neighbor?

“I'm scared of the man who didn't fall for my charm, and then managed to charm me. I'm scared of losing my brothers. I'm scared of thunderstorms. But I'm not scared of the ocean—Port Sirena  _ is _ surrounded by it.” Lovino scoffed, though his voice cracked.

“Aha! Well that storm isn't coming to us,” Gil shrugged, “And Antonio–I hope you meant him–can’t hear us. So why not tell Gilbert the Awesome about what's bothering you, hm?” he added with a cocky attitude. Lovino rolled his eyes.

“Why don't you shove a saddle bag up your ass?” Lovino snapped, regretting even speaking to this asshole.

“Look, it's better to admit your fears now instead of later. I know this coastline.” Gilbert sighed, losing all of the arrogance he had shown. He seemed to wilt and for once he appeared to be vulnerable and more human.

“Fine. I'm afraid of thunderstorms because lightning struck my home and started a fire when I was 14.” he huffed and crossed his arms.

“That's how he died, isn't it?–Romulus.” Gilbert asked almost timidly. Romano looked at the sand and counted the hoof prints. They weren't all that interesting, but it was the only distraction he had. That fire took everything but his brothers–his home, his parents, Nonno, everything. He should have been terrified of the flickering atop a candle. The smell of smoke should have brought him to tears. The crackling at the hearth should have paralyzed him. But he saw the bolt crash onto the thatched roof. If his gangly legs could've carried him faster, if he didn't give up his blood for the first time that night, they all would have lived. He feared the raw energy that could destroy so many lives with only a flash.

“I'm sorry,” Gilbert breathed, “We can talk about something else if you want.” Lovino glanced up and nodded when Gil looked back again. Gilbert smiled weakly.

“Why are you scared of Antonio?” he asked, genuinely curious. It was an odd situation to be in, questing with someone who he feared. Gilbert knew it was essential to trust the people a person would surround themself with and depend on for months, even years.

“My charms don't work on him.” Lovino groaned, annoyed he had to explain it again, “When we first met, he tackled me to the ground. I pickpocketed him, but I thought a little flirting could get me out of it.”

“And it didn’t work?” Gilbert scoffed incredulously, the Antonio he knew was so susceptible to a few sweet words and a pretty face. The Antonio he knew was hiding, and now more than ever, he wanted him back.

“No! It backfired! I was on my back scared of what this man could do, but also…”

“Don’t tell me, you got the hots for him!” Gilbert snickered, half paying attention–he was using the better half for the conversation. If he were truly focused he would have surely reacted only a little differently.

“If you have to put it that way, yeah. I was scared and aroused.” Lovino grumbled, annoyed that he was admitting this to an arrogant paladin. Though, Gilbert, as far as he could tell, was too focused on some idea spinning around in his head to really roast him, and there was something so trustworthy about paladins in general. Lovino craned his neck to get a better look at the albino. His eyes were much like a caged animal’s when it knew it would be killed. His face was even paler than usual. Something was definitely wrong.

“Your turn,” Lovino said as he righted himself. Gilbert snorted, or maybe that was his horse. Either way, Gilbert was reluctant to respond as they finally spotted Antonio. Oh this would not do, not after Lovnio spilled (some of) his heart to this jackass!

“It’s better to admit your fear now instead of later.” Lovino cooed. Gilbert groaned. The bard was right. Damn him. Or maybe not.

“I almost died in a place not far from here. The entire experience still haunts me–and I’ve had plenty of near-death experiences. I’m still trying to get my head in the right place for when I go back.” Gilbert admitted wearily. Maybe fear wasn’t as good a topic as he initially thought. 

“You almost died? And you’re going back?!” Lovino shouted loud enough for the man in the distance to pause and look back, “That’s either really stupid or really brave, and I’m not sure which.” he mumbled, trying to bring the cocky bastard back–this guy was worse when he was calm! Gilbert smirked, keen on the idea of being really brave.

“Antonio saved me then, now he won’t have to, you’re right, I am really brave!” Gilbert hummed. He was starting to regain some color in his face. Lovino facepalmed, wondering what kind of bullshit he was in for.

“So the reason you’re helping him is because you owe him your life?” Lovino asked.

“No, it’s because he’s been my best bro for like 8 years! We trained together, built up trust, worked together to solve problems. He was Mr. Sunshine, always planning pranks, singing and dancing, taking care of the dogs.” Gilbert said wistfully. 

“Huh. So he wasn't always a bastard?” Lovino mused. 

“Nope, he changed after Vati went missing—swallowed by the void and consumed by the darkness, a demon in the east. I guess knowing virtue isn't always going to save you shook him.”

“Really?” he asked  only mildly sarcastically.

“Maybe. That's when I first noticed it is what I meant. I'll spare you the details for now.” Gilbert shrugged.

“Don’t spare them too long. I want to know what the hell I’m dealing with.” Lovino grunted and crossed his arms. Gilbert laughed, not in a teasing or mean way, just dismissing the thought that he was keeping Antonio’s past a secret.

“When we catch a break, alright?” he asked, and urged his horse to go into a faster gait to finally catch up with a sour knight. Lovino grabbed the saddle again and groaned. He wanted that break sooner than later.


	9. Raef Pools

Two horses trotted side by side in the waves. Their hooves never made lasting tracks and their riders made no lasting remarks. After hours of silence, the tension became too much for one paladin.

“We're heading towards Raef Pools.” Gilbert noted loudly. Antonio spared half a glance and pressed forward, still sour from the event in the forest. It was far from surprising–Gilbert did put his code of ethics before their friendship. Antonio knew exactly where they were heading as well–no reason to warn him of the impending danger. Lovino was another story.

“What the fuck is Raef?” Lovino asked.

“It's a cursed set of tidepools where the fog never lifts.” Gil replied, “A place where the shallow water reflects your greatest fears and pulls you in until you sink in the waters of another realm. So don't look down.”

“I won't.” Lovino groaned. As if he needed that last instruction! Antonio eyed the bard and huffed.

“He rides with me.”

“What makes you think I want to ride with you?” Lovino hissed.

“You don't get a choice. Someone has to make sure you don't drown.” Antonio spat, glaring at Gil. Gilbert glared right back. It was not his first time in the pools, nor was it Antonio's. But it seemed Antonio remembered the last time all too well. 

“I won't fall in this time.” Gil said with a frown, “You won't have to jump off your horse and nearly lose him. I'm better now.”

“The grouchy little brat rides with me. End of discussion.” Antonio snarled and halted his horse. Gilbert stopped abruptly and grumbled to himself. Lovino, indignantly stunned into silence, got off of the mare and stomped over to Antonio and Clavileño. Antonio got down and helped Lovino on the horse and then climbed on behind him.

“What the—?” Lovino protested.

“It's easier to catch you if you get snared. No amount of charm can save you.” Antonio cut him off rudely. Lovino knocked his head back into the knight’s neck. The irritated grunt from Antonio was almost satisfying.

“Okay asshole, why don't you tell me which way to go to escape Raef in case something happens.” Lovino huffed, “What the hell am I supposed to do if you decide you wanna play hero?” Gilbert snickered–this guy was gonna put Antonio in his place a lot! 

“Think of your dreams and follow them.” Gilbert replied wryly. Lovino rolled his eyes, expecting something cryptic or silence from Antonio, both was only the start of the hell he would deal with.

They ventured on for an hour. Antonio's arms wrapped around Lovino so he could steer. He was pressed up against his back. Lovino, irritated as he was, still found the contact oddly comforting. And as the coast became rocky, the bard relaxed into the knight despite his better judgement. The fog settled around them soon enough and Lovino could still see Gilbert, who was tense. They had entered the Raef Pools.

The wind blowing through their hair sounded like agonized screaming. A chill ran down Antonio's spine and he shuddered. Gilbert looked over at the pair and frowned. Lovino was perfectly in control of himself, sparing the water a disinterested glance occasionally, but Antonio was pale his eyes were wide and his neck was stiff. All terrible signs. He had to wonder what was going on in his friend’s mind…he looked back at the way ahead and Antonio, succumbed and looked into the water.

He watched two scenes at once in the calm water. The first was a ship in a violent thunderstorm. Afonso was scrambling around, trying to get his crew to safety. He yelled and screamed orders, and then lightning struck, causing the mast to snap and splinter near the crowsnest. Afonso didn't see it falling. A sharp edge rammed through his chest, shattering his ribs and forcing his organs out his back. Blood splattered everywhere just before the mast broke through the deck. Antonio, screamed and sobbed as if it were a terrible movie he couldn't stop watching—his screaming was internal, no one else could hear him. Neither of his companions saw him starting to lean over. 

The other scenario was just as horrific, Antonio stood proudly on the decapitated body of Beryl with her head under one arm. There was blood everywhere as well. The few friends he had surrounded him. None of them were happy, especially Gilbert and Lovino. Gilbert said something to him and he snapped in a rage he had only felt once before. He attacked with a twisted smile on his face, killing the paladin and then everyone else in the most brutal fashion. The last to go would have been Lovino except

“Oh hell no, you bastard!” the bard snapped, feeling the knight leaning toward certain death. He grabbed the reins and snapped them, picturing his greatest desire. A purple haze in the distance that was only visible to him appeared in the distance. He guided the horse with one hand while desperately trying to hold Antonio back from falling–a task for a much stronger man. Clavileño ran, charging toward the unseen goal. Gilbert was on their tail.

The fog was thick around them. Winnies and splashing filled the stiff air. That haze was so close. Antonio was leaning further off the horse. Lovino kicked Clavileño hard. That horse raced forward until they broke through the fog and into the sunlight. Gilbert came from behind them and stopped his mare abruptly and clambered off.

Antonio was still in a horrified daze.

“What the hell happened back there?” Gilbert asked in a panic, running to Antonio.

“I—I—I–I—” Antonio stammered. Lovino smacked his leg where there was no armor to snap him out of it. Antonio glared at the bard but then his gaze softened. Twice in one day he doubted the bard. Twice in one day it was the bard, not the paladin, who saved his life. Those goblins were going to kill him and eat his corpse, the pools was going to drown him. And here he was, being an asshole.

“Why?” he asked Lovino, his voice hoarse.

“Killing isn't my style, unlike you sword-swinging walnuts!” he snapped, getting tired of somebody's attitude. Antonio went rigid and suddenly knocked Lovino off the horse. The bard squawked and landed in the sand, rolling toward Gilbert.

Gilbert helped Lovino to his feet and watched Antonio gallop off towards the grassy meadow land in the distance. Gilbert frowned, knowing that even though Antonio was an asshole, he would never push anyone from his horse without some kind of warning, if at all. Something was troubling him, and it sure as hell wasn’t just Lovino’s barrage of swears and spit on the sand.

“Easy there, Romano.” Gilbert said, “Nearly getting taken by Raef pools messes with your head. The further away from here he gets, the sooner he’ll apologize.”

“The fuck would you know?! I just fell from a horse! He can apologize to the boot Imma shove up his ass!” The feisty little man shouted and shook his fist after Antonio.

“Romano, take it from me, the man would love that. Let’s get on Raina and catch up to him. I know first-hand the hell that comes with nearly falling in.” Gilbert said coldly, not too pleased with the memories flooding in. Lovino shut his fat mouth and went straight for the black mare, Raina. Gilbert helped him on and then joined him. They had a moody knight to catch. 


	10. Opening

“So, you made a deal with Vlad.” Gilbert asked over his beer. Across the table from him, Lovino shrugged and took a sip of wine. Three weeks of senseless wandering had sapped him of conversation topics and the energy to uphold the usual ones. He was tired and it was getting colder and colder with each passing day. Gilbert was the only one who would talk to him now. He might as well reply.

“I did, and he did a good job.” Lovino said just above the violin music playing in the background. 

“I can’t deny that, Romano.” Gilbert laughed softly. He looked across the tavern to the bar where Antonio ate and drank alone. He pouted, how far gone was he if he still couldn’t get over his pride and apologize? Maybe his new companion broke him, that would explain a lot.

“Why are you so curious about my deal?” Lovino questioned warily, paladin or not, there was something off about Gilbert. He couldn’t place it. 

“It’s for personal reasons.” Gilbert said with a grin, “Personal reasons that are in every way awesome.” 

“You’re thinking about making the deal and giving Eli the charm.”

“You’re quick, I like that, but no. She’s a witch and can totally handle magic alone. So why don’t you tell the Awesome Me about it, hm?” Gilbert cooed and leaned on one arm on the table.  He would not Lovino glanced to Antonio, alone and bitter as the day they met, and then back to Gil.

“He has a way to measure blood. He takes it four times a year with some enchanted shit. He powers this charm.” Lovino sighed and pulled out the cross of Ankh, holding it up for Gil to see, “I can’t take it off, you know. I wouldn’t put it past Eli to have told you everything she knew.”

“Without that you’re a female, with it on and powered, you’re a man. You switch between both, that’s what we gathered, otherwise it would have been permanent.”

“You’re not as dumb as you let on.” Lovino smirked. The paladin snickered. 

“How painful is it?” Gilbert asked.

“It’s more painful than a poke, but less painful than being insulted and degraded after saving the day twice, and then being ignored for weeks.” Lovino replied bitterly. Gilbert sighed and nodded in agreement. The silence of the past three weeks was unsettling. There was something in the melancholy way Antonio existed like a shadow with them on their–his quest. He slept with his horse, he made no effort to socialize whatsoever, when he had to fight he was swift and unforgiving. It was terrifying in more than one way.

“He won’t talk to me. I don’t blame him. He thinks I don’t value our friendship, but he forgets that I have a code of ethics that no amount of friendship can alter.” Gilbert admitted and took a long swig of beer.

“Aren’t you a stick in the mud?” Lovino teased–two depressed knights were worse than one. 

“Hey man, I’m worried that he won’t ever speak again. If you can get him talking, I will turn up!” Gilbert laughed and finished off his drink. Lovino lifted an eyebrow at him and got up. He hadn’t tried talking to Antonio since the incident in the pools. Antonio just looked like he would kill him if he said a word most of the time, the rest of the time he was either asleep or busy earning some money by singing. That didn't keep him from worrying, despite his best efforts. Maybe he would be the one to bring the knight back to reality, at least partially.

He sauntered over to the bar, and took the seat next to Antonio. The knight paused for a moment and cringed without looking at the man seated next to him. He then went back to eating and pushing around the food on his plate, mostly the latter.

“You’re too damn quiet.” Lovino huffed, hoping the annoying brat approach would work. It didn’t. Antonio ignored him and took a sip of his wine. So he would have to do this the fun way. Okay.

“Tonio,” Lovino cooed and placed a hand on his thigh, “look at me. You’ve been so distant, have I not been, putting enough out for you?” Antonio swallowed thickly and froze, dropping his silverware onto his nearly empty plate. 

“Why don't we find some place private to chat?” Lovino cooed in a low, sultry voice. Antonio shot him a sideways glance and huffed,

“You're not getting in my pants.”

“I don't want to.” Lovino replied, sounding much less flirty, “Weeks of grouchy silence is terrible for your health. C'mon, it won't kill you to talk to me.” Instead of saying anything, Antonio stood up and made his way toward the exit. Lovino sputtered indignantly and quickly followed him.

It was cold outside, threatening snow. Antonio was standing in the middle of the road, staring past the town and pines up at a mountain. The storm swirling above it was as terrible as the one offshore, miles away. 

“You get your ass inside!” Lovino shouted from behind him. He closed his eyes and fought the urge to groan. He was not in the mood to deal with anyone. He was not going to say a word. But Lovino didn't need words to thaw him.

A pair of arms wrapped around his middle and Lovino pressed his cheek into Antonio's back. He was trying to lift the knight and drag him back to the warmth, but he wasn't strong enough. Antonio thought it was something else entirely.

“A hug? Do you really think that will help?” he grumbled. Okay so it  _ was  _ helping. It had been years since he was on the receiving end of any genuine physical affection. He was always the one to initiate anything and it never felt real. Romano Lovino-Vargas was hugging him–and Lovino had indeed switched tactics.

“You tell me.” he retorted, “You're not getting sick and dying on me.”

“Are you still going to try and talk to me?” Antonio sighed.

“I already am. Now let's go to the room where we can continue our conversation or I talk to the Noble Sir Brickwall.” Lovino answered. He might have expected Antonio to escape his grasp, but he sure as hell didn't expect to be hoisted up and tossed over the man's shoulder.

“Che cazzo?!” Lovino shouted and kicked, trying to break free. Antonio smirked.

“I have a reputation to keep for now.” he hummed, “Play the part of a willing whore correctly and I'll be more inclined to answer.”

“You carry your whores like sacks of potatoes? No wonder you can't keep anybody for more than a night! Carry me bridal style and I'll be your best whore ever.” Lovino argued. Antonio put him down and scooped him up properly. Lovino wrapped his arms around Antonio's neck and buried his face in his shoulder. He immediately began kissing and nibbling the exposed skin between his neck and shoulder. 

“Hey!” Antonio yelped. Lovino paused and looked up at him irately.

“I'm trying to be convincing. If I turn you on that's your problem.” he huffed. Antonio sighed and nodded, clearly unhappy. Lovino went back to mouthing his shoulder, quite happily.

Antonio hurried for the door and kicked it in. Gilbert made good on his word and he got the whole tavern to come to life. It was lively enough that even the door slamming didn't deter the fun—in fact some people saw the pair and wolf whistled. Gilbert was on a table with his flute, dancing. He locked eyes with Antonio and winked. He knew Antonio all too well, and it paid off.

Antonio wasted no time weaving through the crowd while Lovino teased him. Every so often a soft moan would escape the bard, and hit the knight in his groin. Antonio was weak to this man, and if those delicate touches didn't stop he might just take Lovino where they stood. His plump lips and warm breath sent shivers down Antonio's spine. He had never felt such an urge for another person and he needed to control himself before taking what wasn't his. 

He made damn sure that he reached the stairs quickly when those lips traveled to his jaw. And then he ran up them, followed by wild cheers. The second they were in the room Antonio unceremoniously dropped him in a flustered panic. This bard was getting to him.

“Coulda aimed for the bed!” Lovino huffed as he stood, rubbing his back. He sat on the bed and patted the space next to him. Antonio warily sat beside him. He hung his head and closed his eyes. He looked like he had something to say. Lovino could wait, they had a whole journey to work through this.

“I–I’m sorry.” Antonio said after a long silence.

“I've had worse falls, it's not a big deal.”

“No. I threatened you and insulted you and worst of all, I doubted you.” Antonio sighed and hid his face in his hands.

“You're not the first and you won't be the last.” Lovino chuckled, “I forgive you, ya bastard.” He placed a warm hand on his thigh. 

“No! You don’t understand!” Antoino pushed his hand away, “You saved my life, and you shouldn’t have! I’m a bastard, a murderer, a monster! If you saw what I did—!” the knight broke down into tears. Startled at first by the outburst, Lovino took a moment to respond.

“What did you see in those pools?” the bard asked cautiously. Setting this man off was a death sentence.

“I saw myself, after slaying Beryl. I killed everyone I care about! I killed them all! And I liked it!” he sobbed, “I can't become as horrible that vision!”

“Then don't. Some murky puddle of piss showed the worst possible thing. You have to work to be who you want to be. Unlike me, you're not alone.” Lovino huffed and averted his gaze. He said too much. Antonio hiccupped and dried his eyes. This bard was the strangest man he had ever come across.

“Why are you being so nice to me? You shouldn’t.”

“Killing isn't my style. Creating a community out of strangers–bringing life to the world–Love is. Even if I constantly fail.” Lovino explained with a sigh, “And for some strange reason, this is one of the few times I don't want to fail.”

“Romano?” Antonio sniffled. Lovino looked over at him and smiled warmly. Before either realized it, the bard was holding the knight against his chest. He hummed a few bars, not knowing what song they were from, and exhaled quietly. Antonio cried and cried, desperately clinging to the source of all his comfort. It was going to be a long night.

A floor below, Gilbert had the party going with his flute, though he was hardly as good as Lovino, it worked. Overhead he could hear the muffled sobs coming from his friend. He smiled as he played and danced, knowing that everything would be alright.


	11. Meetings

Gilbert was not one for delivering bad news, but he had to. After his partying, the barkeeper warned him that the storm on its way would be terrible and incredibly dangerous to travel in. Still, it seemed his bard buddy did make a break through with Senor Sourpuss, and that was by all means a good thing. So the bad news was also an excuse to check in on his party, not that he needed one. That’s what he told himself as he knocked on the door.

“Keep it down!” a female voice hissed, “Who is it?”

“It’s Gilbert, Roma. Can I come in?” he asked quietly, figuring Antonio was not awake at all.

“Fine.” she sighed. Gilbert tried to be as quiet as physically possible, opening the door slowly, walking delicately, and then closing the door slowly. All his efforts might have been in vain when he saw his comrades. Lovino was shirtless and missing one of her charms, sitting in the middle of the bed with Antonio curled up next to her, with his head in her lap. Gilbert covered his mouth to keep from screaming and turned his back to the duo with a bright blush on his face.

“Put a shirt on!” he hissed, “or at least the cross!” Lovino rolled her eyes and scoffed.

“My shirt is soaked with tears, and no. You know my secret, he doesn’t and he’s asleep. I’m not feeling particularly manly now, not for the past week. They’re just boobs!” she told him irately, trying not to jostle the man in her lap. Gilbert conceded, but refused to turn around.

“It wouldn’t be fair to have you hide when you don’t need to,” Gil sighed, “We’re stuck here another day, due to the storm coming through.”

“Shit, and how are we supposed to pay? They don't need music.” Lovino hissed. Gilbert shrugged and turned back to face her. He wouldn't do anything bad, he was sure of it.

“I’ll talk to the owners–Justyna and Smilte are fair about this stuff, even if they don't like me.” Gilbert said and wrung his hands awkwardly.

“You want me to do the talking, right?” Romana groaned.

“Yeah, Tina’s gonna be up in the morning. So you can sleep for now.”

“I can't, not now. Not when my mind is racing.” Lovino sighed and absent-mindedly ran his fingers through Antonio's hair.

“What was he like before?”

“He was something else, that's for sure. A real character, even when we first met…” 

* * *

 

 

Port NIxe–it wasn’t too far from the castle. Young Gilbert was on route home from the bakery there, heading toward the wheat fields when he saw something odd. A young boy had his horse tied up to a thin tree while he punched and kicked at the larger oak next to it. He was screaming and crying, what was Gil to do?

He quickly guided Raina to the smaller tree and dismounted. Using his awesome skills he tied her up with the other horse and called out to the boy:

“Hey! You okay?!”

The boy didn’t acknowledge him, too wrapped up in his own world. Not a problem, Gil was trained for this. Mostly.

He took a few steps back and charged at the boy, tackling him to the ground. The boy kicked and clawed at Gil, trying to throw him off, but the little albino wouldn’t budge. He managed, instead, to restrain the boy’s arms and legs, and waited without a single punch thrown. Vati would be so proud!

“Who do you think you are?!” the boy cried and struggled, “Beating up a little kid!”

“Um, excuse me, the Awesome Me didn’t beat you up! Why were _you_ beating up the tree?”

“Because I’m angry!” the boy huffed and blew some of his messy hair from his face.

“Well angry, I’m Gil, and I’m here to help.” Gilbert smiled smugly. The boy pouted and stared at him, unamused. And his jokes worked to disarm his opponent yet again.

“My name is Antonio, not angry. And what do you care?”

“Okay, Tony is a better name than angry…” Gilbert mused, “I care because I can, and you can’t stop me! So spill!” He released Antonio and went to Raina to grab the cookies he had gotten earlier for him and his little sister. Antonio got up and planted himself under the tree bitterly, watching this strange boy getting his snack. Gilbert held up a small bag of cookies and made his way to Antonio, plopping down next to him with a sigh.

“Here,” he said pulling out a large soft sugar cookie and offering it to Antonio. Antonio gingerly took the treat and bit off a small piece. It was far better than the slop they served at the monasteries he had stayed at for the past month. He swallowed it with a timid smile.

“Thanks, Gil,” he said, turning toward him. Gilbert shrugged, not thinking much of it–it was just a snack. He watched Antonio patiently, still waiting for him to talk, and it was painfully obvious.

“My brother told me to sell my horse and go to the orphanage in town, while he tries to find a job.”

“You don’t have someone to go to?”

“No, my entire village got frozen. He’s all I have and he wants to leave me to go on adventures!” Antonio groaned. Gilbert paused and eyed him confusedly. Something about that story just did not add up.

“Frozen?” GIlbert asked and tilted his head. Antonio’s expression darkened and his hands fell in his lap.

“Beryl...the dragon that lived on the mountain. I guess that’s the secret they tell you when you’re 10.” Antonio replied sadly and wilted, taking another bite of his snack. Gilbert scooted closer and wrapped an arm around Antonio.

“You wanna come stay with me, at least tonight?” Gilbert asked, “Vati will let you stay, Paladin’s honor!” Antonio gawked at him.

“You’re a paladin?” he asked bewildered. Gilbert bobbed his head to and fro, trying to find the words.

“I’m still a page, but Vati’s the greatest paladin in the world!”

“So that’s why you care?” Antonio asked, brightening. Even a boy from a small village knew about the brave and noble knights who protect the innocent. A paladin would have never let that dragon destroy everything. If he were a paladin he could keep attacks like that from happening again. He wouldn’t be that useless kid watching! He could do something.

“Can you teach me to be a paladin?” Tonio asked excitedly, bouncing where he sat. Gilbert smirked and shook his head.

“I can’t do that, not for a long time.” he said, causing Antonio to deflate, “But—Vati can. He’s a great teacher and he’s really nice!” Antonio squealed and pulled Gil into a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you so so so so so so much!” Antonio cheered, not ready to let go quite yet. Gilbert laughed and gently shoved him away.

“Follow me! We can send for your brother later!” Gilbert said as he got to his feet, offering Antonio a hand. Antonio took it and grinned at him. They raced to their horses, and got ready to set off. They rode through the wheat field under the afternoon sun, not knowing what would be in store. 

* * *

 

“Looking back, that darkness has always been there. He always had strong feelings, but they stopped changing on the drop of a hat when he hit puberty.” Gilbert sighed in the darkness, “I know that excitable boy is still in there.” Lovino kept petting Antonio’s hair as he processed everything.

“I lost hope the last time I saw him, up in the mountains–so cold, so ruthless, so changed. I thought I would have to fight him when Vlad told me _he_ took you.” Gilbert mused, “But then I saw that boy again, dancing with you, and he stayed for a while.” Lovino stared at him, surprised but not entirely out of disbelief. She noticed the mood swings but considered it nothing more than an effect of her trade.

“You think Imma bring him back?” Lovino scoffed, letting her fingers curl in Antonio’s curls.

“Romana, I think you’re a catalyst. Only he can bring himself back.” Gilbert replied and looked to Antonio, his face peacefully nuzzled into Romana’s tummy. He smirked at the two of them and waved to Lovino to say goodnight–he had talked more than loudly enough to wake Antonio. But he could have spoken at his regular volume if he wanted. Antonio was in the middle of a dream and was mumbling softly against her skin, too quiet for Gilbert to hear as he slipped out the door.

“Lovi...don’t go…” he whimpered.

“I’m not going anywhere, bastard.” she cooed. That brought an adorable smile to his face. He surprised her by kissing her belly. She went stiff and bit her lip to keep from screaming. He chuckled, still very much asleep and kissed her again.

“Thank you…” he mumbled and turned away, in effect, rolling off her lap. That’s when Lovino knew she was in for more than she bargained for.


	12. Cleansing

Antonio awoke from some of the strangest, yet rewarding dreams he had ever had, bearing a burning desire to discuss them with Gil, even if he doubted that he would listen. He also awoke to an unusual situation as well. Lovino was fast asleep, under the covers, and cuddled up to him. He was so adorable when he wasn’t sassing him. His face was so innocent and his hair framed it is such a beautiful way. Antonio could admire this sight all day if he could. Wait–he froze, wondering what possessed him to even think of Lovino in such a way. Sure he was attractive, but not cute, persay. The man was nothing but trouble and he was so good at driving him insane. And then there was that dream the night before—he was married to Lovino, but the bard was a woman. He had to get up and refocus, find Gilbert, and press onward no matter how miserably cold he was.

“Mmph, don't.” Lovino groaned when he woke up and saw that Antonio was about to leave, and take his body heat with him.

“We can't stay in bed, Lovino.”Antonio said exasperatedly. Lovino yawned and stretched his arms in front of him.

“The storm out there is hell. We're stuck for another day.” he grunted and twisted his back, savoring the cracks that came with it.

“I'm gonna talk to the owner later, so relax and enjoy your rest.” he added, “Or do something decent and stay so I don't freeze to death.” Antonio pouted, he had to phrase it that way, playing off his training as if he were Sir Berkhard Beilschmidt the Bold. Then again, he had a point...

“I’ll stay, but only for a few minutes. I'm hungry, and I get moody when I don't eat enough.”

“So you're always hungry. Good to know.” Lovino scoffed. Antonio rolled his eyes and curled up under the covers once more, pressing his body against Lovino’s. He certainly remembered why that dream was probably a nightmare! But he could admit that he enjoyed the way Lovino felt against him, the scent of linen and his own natural perfume, and the way he inched closer into him. He was so cute. Maybe if he wasn’t such a little shit...wait, no. he was not thinking about Lovino like that. Nope.

Lovino was also having his share of troubles. He was trying to get right against Antonio’s chest not only for warmth, but an odd sense of security. One of those strong arms wrapped around him and his heart skipped a beat. Antonio was mumbling to himself in Spanish, about his dream, his quest, and Sir Beilschmidt. Lovino could have been lulled back to sleep upon hearing his morning voice so close to his ear. But then something hit him.

“Why do you call Gil ‘Sir Beilschmidt’ instead of his name?” Lovino asked tiredly. Antonio inhaled sharply and sighed. Those two were obviously talking, and his moody ass was surely a topic of conversation. He just never expected this question when he wasn’t even thinking of the paladin. He hated the answer.

“He’s only here with us to fulfill an old promise.” Antonio began, staring at the ceiling, “He didn’t come out of friendship, but duty. He hates me, why shouldn’t I use a title with a stranger.”

“The bastard is worried sick about you, dumbass.” Lovino huffed. What kind of stupid was this guy again? Oh yeah, this kind of stupid.

“Worried? He would have let me die!” Antonio groaned, tightening his hold on Lovino, “If it weren't for you, I would be a real pile of shit!”

“Okay, so what, you’re in my debt or some shit? I don’t really care. Point is, he's worried.” Lovino grumbled against his chest. Damn this man was hot—warm! He was warm! Oh no, he was blushing! Bad Lovino! No having feelings for the pawn leading you to treasure!

“If you won’t take my word for it, talk to him.” Lovino added and buried his face into Antonio’s shoulder to hide the hue crawling down his neck. Antonio, fortunately, considered it a way of keeping warm. It sure made his face heat up! A few minutes was all he would need!

* * *

 

The tavern was mostly empty when Lovino and Antonio descended from the room. It was noontime and only a few people were there amongst the round tables and bar. A frail man with a hurdy-gurdy was tuning his instrument at the bar, as far from the cold as he could get. A pair of women sat at a table nearby, chatting quietly over their hot ciders. The blonde looked friendlier than her brunette counterpart. Across the room, Gilbert sat at a table with a bowl of soup and bread, watching the pair.

“Go talk to Gil, while I charm those two into giving us a break.” Lovino ordered and nudged Antonio toward Gilbert. Antonio pouted at him, but made his way toward Gilbert when a pair of golden eyes bore through him. That gaze was scarier than any monster he had ever faced.

“Morning Antonio.” Gilbert said when the knight sat down by him. He was clearly preoccupied with the two women and Lovino.

“Buenos días.” Antonio replied timidly–a rare phenomenon. Gilbert eyed him curiously, more than aware that his friend had something on his mind.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, idly stirring his soup. Antonio bit his lip and swallowed his pride. If Gilbert was as important to him as he thought, he could do this.

“I'm sorry, for everything. I've been nothing but an ass for the past couple of years.”

“You know nothing changes because you said sorry.” Gilbert said, “You have to make changes first.”

“Lovino said you're worried,” Antonio sighed, “Is he right?”

“He is. You grew so cold on my quest. You enjoyed killing, you weren't honest with me. Ever since I sent you home I've been worried.” Gil replied bitterly.

“About me or your family?” Antonio questioned and hunched over the table. Gilbert set his spoon aside and sighed:

“Both. Moni doesn't have her father any more. I still don't know if he’s alive or dead. You were the one who raced up a mountain and told me he went missing, and it was like you were hiding something. Be honest with me.”

“Would you be my friend if it were my fault?” Antonio asked with a trembling voice. He was bracing himself to lose his oldest friend.

“Depends. Why don't you tell me before Romano comes over.” Gilbert hummed. He had done his worst grieving while battling the elements, all he needed was answers. He swore he would not break down into hysterics and screams of agony like when he learned that Sir Berkhard Beilschmidt’s was missing and possibly going through hell.

”I–I did it. I killed him, but it was an accident! I was just practicing in the archery range while he was hunting and then a dog ran into my legs and threw off my balance while I was about to fire! The arrow hit him in the throat and I couldn't do anything to help him!” Antonio rambled, his voice cracking, “I gave him a proper funeral, I marked the grave, buy it’s my fault! I'm the bastard who killed the one man who willingly took me under his wing-the one who saw my potential!” Gil could see it in his, eyes, he was being truthful.

“At least the worst of my suspicions aren't valid.” Gilbert said and pushed his meal away, no longer hungry. His father wasn't suffering and it wasn't murder, but he’d be damned if he denied that it was more painful than he expected, not at all like ripping of a band-aid—More like peeling pus-coated bandages off of a festering wound. For two years he had suspected Antonio in the back of his mind, the monster of a man he imagined, not the Antonio he knew, killed his father out of blind rage or blood-lust. Those suspicions destroyed so much.  

“Without that secret weighing you down, do you think you can be less of a jackass?” he asked after a moment of contemplation.

“You don't hate me?” Antonio squeaked.

“Accidents happen. I'm pissed off at you for lying. But I don't hate you.” Gilbert admitted weakly. He hated himself in that moment. Doubt, fear, anger, regret tumbled in his chest. Antonio was not nearly as far gone as he suspected. He was redeemable, and Gilbert, the fool, almost let those tree goblins kill him for murder–but which murder was on his mind in that moment? The one he dreamt up.

“I-I’m so sorry.” he said with tears welling in his eyes, “For suspecting you like I did.” Antonio frowned and pulled him into a hug.

“He was your father, I’m the one who should be sorry for not telling you. I was so afraid of losing you over a random mistake, but then I did, and I only realized it recently. I can’t apologize enough, Gil. I’m so sorry.” Antonio said with a trembling lip. He tensed his shoulders as sobs wracked his body, urging Gilbert to cry with him. They stayed like that for a few minutes, reconnecting emotionally. But all other emotions gave way to embarrassment when they heard a light cough.

“Are you two finished having a moment?” Lovino asked sitting in the once vacant chair with his own bowl of soup. The knights separated and nodded in sync, blushing like mad. The bard sighed and crossed his arms. This wouldn't be pretty

“Good, we might have a small problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I didn't mention much regarding this in previous chapters, it probably seems out of left-field. There will be more about young Antonio in future chapters. Doing stuff in chronological order is so boring!


	13. Duel

Lovino left Antonio and Gil to sort out their issues while he did something useful. He approached the pair of women whispering to each other. The brunette noticed his confident yet respectful approach and looked to her partner, tilting her head towards him. The blonde smiled softly and nodded right before Lovino got to the table.

“Ciao belle,” Lovino greeted with a soft smile, “Mind if I sit here?”

“You may, Romano. Smilte, you owe me five zummas.” The blonde said quietly.

“Later Tina.” Smilte smirked and placed her hand on top of Justyna’s, winking before turning to Lovino, urging him to speak with her stern stare. Lovino wasn't terribly threatened by her in this situation.

“I’m sure you have an idea why I interrupted you. We could only afford one night and this storm, well, it is a huge problem.”

“It is a problem. We would like to offer a free night of room and board, honestly, but we can’t afford that right now.” Smilte said sadly.

“But we can offer a discount, half price for today.” Justyna added shyly, “It’s the best we can do right now.” She looked absolutely torn, between ruefulness and glee. Smilte didn’t appear as sorry as she let on either.

“Please, be honest with me, if Gilbert weren’t with me and Antonio, would you have considered that free night?” Lovino asked wearily. The women shared a look and cringed. Justyna shrank into herself while Smilte rolled her neck in preparation.

“Beilschmidt nearly beheaded her, for kicking his drunk friend out at sword point.” Smilte sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, “To add insult to injury he shouted at her, catching everyone's attention, before he struck.”

“Struck?” Lovino swallowed thickly.

“Yes. My sword. I don't care if that friend was some royal. Nymphs like that one have the magic needed to trick anyone into having their way.”

“We already knew him, when he was sober we made an arrangement. The sword was symbolic. Gilbert wouldn't listen, that bastard. But since that night…” Tina added timidly.

“I understand, I'm sure it must be awful to have him back here. We'll be gone in the morning, but it's not feasible to pay that price, we can only afford four individual nights, last night for the three of us and two for tonight at your offered price. Surely there's another way I can reimburse you for at least my own fee.” Lovino replied calmly and leaned on his elbow on the table.

“We're in a happy marriage, and satisfied.” Tina blushed shyly. Lovino went pink and shook his head.

“I meant like, more of a bet–unless you want me to wash all the dishes or something of that nature. But that’s no fun for you.”

“I’m listening.” Tina said, far more confidently. Lovino was right about her weakness. Smilte grinned. Good work Romano!

“Then listen good,” Smilte said impishly, “because I have a contest in mind–” she motioned over her shoulder to the frail man at the bar, “–Roderich is our resident bard, known for his potent sad songs. If you can make both of your companions cry before Roderich does, with only one song, both stay free. If only one of them, then you pay for one at the offered price, if neither of them cries, I’ll allow you, and only you, a free stay.”

“That’s generous of you.” Lovino said with a grin to match hers, “What are the rules?”

“No dancing, no touching, and don’t tell those two what you need from them to win.”

“I wouldn’t mind it if during your performance you ‘accidentally’ stomp on Gilbert’s foot.” Justyna mumbled. Lovino nodded with a smirk, and extended his hand:

“I’ll do that anyway, after the mess he caused yesterday! You're on. Do we have a deal?” Justyna grabbed his hand and shook it excitedly. Smilte chuckled at her wife, and shook Lovino’s hand when it was free again. Then Justyna gasped, realizing something, and got to her feet, scurrying toward the kitchen. Leaving a confused bard in her wake.

“You haven’t eaten since yesterday, before Beilschmidt created a ruckus. Neither has Antonio.” Smilte explained, “You’re our guests, for better or worse, she’s bringing you some food.”

“Oh!” Lovino said with a soft smile, “Thank you! You’re both far too kind.”

“You’re welcome. With weather this cold and unforgiving, it’s better to fight it with warmth.”

“You’re right. Do storms like this happen often around here?”

“Yes, but almost never coming from the mountains toward the coast. That dragon might just sink a few ships.”

“Beryl created the storm?” Lovino gawked. She nodded as Justyna came back with two bowls of hot soup. He jumped to his feet and hurried to help before Smilte could answer. She didn't need to.

“Thanks!” Justyna smiled as Lovino took the bowls from her. He smiled back.

“Thank you for your generosity.” he said, “I'll be ready for tonight.” She nodded and he went to his party’s table. Those idiots were hugging and crying. Great. He set one bowl on the table by Antonio and sat down with his own and waited for a few minutes, mostly polishing off his meal. Then he cleared his throat, impatiently, as if he had patience to begin with!

“Are you two finished having a moment?” he asked. Gil and Antonio broke apart and nodded, drying their eyes.

“Good, we might have a small problem.” Lovino pouted.

“Problem?” Antonio's asked, his voice cracking.

“I was able to get two free nights out of three, one of us has to pay for tonight.” Lovino began, pausing to eat the last spoonful of soup. Gil went pale.

“I thought you were gonna convince them!” he whined.

“Well asshole, that's the thing. I made a bet. And you two are a part of it.”

“A bet, are you sure that's a good idea? We're on a tight budget.” Antonio asked meekly–that threw Lovino off.

“It's a contest between that stick figure at the bar and me. Your reactions are the key.” the bard added, completely surprised. Gilbert stood up and started to walk away,

“I don't cheat! I'm not listening to this!”

“He’s really that full of himself, isn't he?” Lovino scoffed. Antonio snickered and shook his head.

“You don’t know the half of it!” he said, “Luckily I don’t mind cheating a little.”

“I’m not about to tell you how I need you to react for me to win. I have some dignity as a Vargas!” Lovino hissed and crossed his arms, “Just think happy thoughts until I perform.”

“Haha! Oh man! Good one!” Antonio laughed. He keeled over and tried to contain himself. Happy thoughts? He hadn’t had any of those in years! But the scowl on Lovino’s face, and his fists balled at his sides, were far from amused. Antonio forced himself to stop cackling and winced once he saw that golden glare.

“Think happy thoughts or take a fucking hint!” Lovino snapped. He stood up abruptly and stalked off to the room, leaving Antonio confused and stewing under the surface–there was no need to get hissy! Still he was curious as to what he was getting into.

* * *

 

Antonio and Gil sat at a table next to the bar, where Justyna and Smilte were eagerly perched. They're watched Gilbert and Antonio like hawks, making both uneasy. Lovino was busy tuning his instrument in the kitchen and Roderich was perched elegantly on a stool with a hurdy-gurdy in his lap. Gilbert, despite the two pairs of eyes boring into him, was quite at ease, and that made Antonio uneasy.

Justyna nodded at Roderich and in an instant his hands moved, one turning the crank on the side. At once an eerie, nasal violin sound filled the air with a chilling ring.

 _Winter’s foe was Summer_  
_Jade and Topaz fought_  
_It did not seem to matter_  
_Any strife they brought_

 _But the scarlet Autumn_  
_And the lemon Spring_  
_Got down to the bottom_  
_Of their suffering._

 _Then the four seasons formed_  
_Perfect harmony_  
_Until Spring and Autumn_  
_Slept for centuries._

 _Winter's frosty claw took_  
_Summer’s treasured prize_  
_The new foundation shook_  
_Hearing Summer's cries_

Gilbert smirked at Roderich and chuckled. Antonio was just curious. Something about the song was oddly familiar.

 _The beast on the mountain_  
_Kills with ice and snow._  
_Autumn and Spring refrain_  
_From preventing woe_

 _A town in a glacier_  
_A fool venturer_  
_He will fail his mission,_  
_Death won't take her_

 _Sing the red eye’s lyric_  
_Quell Winter's distress_  
_The voice that can calm them_  
_A minstrel mistress._

 _Singing olive branches_  
_Delivered by dove_  
_The two shall reunite_  
_Learning what is love._

Roderich finished playing and promptly stood to take a humble bow. The audience clapped, impressed by his skills. He smiled softly and went to a table to sit down and listen to the foreign bard play. Lovino exited the kitchen soon after and took his seat, without his lyre.

Gil was incredibly interested in the bard's plan–it's not often one would rely solely on their voice. Antonio leaned over the table and waited. Lovino singing without accompaniment?—this was his chance to hear his beautiful voice without distraction. Well mostly without distraction, Lovino was tapping the seat of the stool slowly but rhythmically. He had planned on singing a sad folk song, thinking it would work, but something possessed him to try an original piece, probably a ghost. He opened his mouth and let a melancholy verse fall from his lips.

 _Feather light as air_  
_Flutter down here._  
_Flutter down here._  
_Down down down_  
_The wind blows you far_  
_Away, Astray_  
_Forever, dear_

Antonio's blood ran cold. A rich sorrow enveloped the words. A melancholy tempo took over time itself. Lovino's kept his head up and started into the distance past his audience.

 _The bird you once knew_  
_Has moved on_  
_Silence on this night_  
_Has taken your dreams and_  
_Corrupted them_  
_A nightmare of loss_  
_A mistake you cannot_  
_Change no matter_  
_How you pray_

His eyes were glassy and his mind was far from his stage. He could only think of his regrets–the yelling and fighting, wishing to be rid of the fools who would not listen. Gilbert crossed his arms, an act to hide the way he hugged himself. That emotion was so raw, so potent.

 _Your loss is eternally_  
_Your fault, dear._  
_You can't change_  
_The course of fate_  
_You won't hear_  
_them speak again_  
_Or feel their warm embrace_  
_Never dream again_

Gilbert was crying, fighting back the full force of his sobs. Antonio was rigid. His eyes were glassy and a few stray tears carved down his cheeks. He couldn't give in, he would fight the feeling, the regret over giving into anger spurred him on. He would not break. Not because of a few words. Lovino's voice never wavered despite his freely flowing tears. Antonio had no idea he was far from finished.

 _That flying bird_  
_Is long gone and is dead_  
_Your guilty heart will bleed_  
_You know that you are alone_  
_Forever and ever_  
_You can't bring back_  
_The people you love_  
_You will be alone_  
_Knowing you could have_  
_Saved them all, my dear_  
_Feather_

Lovino's voice cracked on the last two words, breaking any spell he might have used. That was the final straw for Antonio. He sucked in a sharp breath and shook, crumpling over the table. He sobbed in his arms. The doubts and fears that formed ages ago resurfaced.

Smilte and Justyna were shocked. Their eyes were dry and focused on the knights. Just to be sure it wasn't a trick, they turned their attention to the other bard in the corner. Roderich had pushed his hurdy-gurdy aside in favor of putting his elbows on the table and sobbing into his hands. Perhaps they should have paid more attention to the song and singer. It was truly the embodiment of angst.

Lovino stood up and bowed. His face was damp with grief and his knees shook, but he stood with resolve for a moment. He looked to the owners, in awe of his skill and utterly horrified by what they had suggested to bet on.

“My regrets on display on a whim for a night out of the cold.” he announced with a shaking voice, “Good night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song i listened to when writing Lovino's song...[x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vohFxJ982Ic)  
> Rod's song is based off of Schubert's "Der Leiermann" [x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HeKu3NCSsdw)


	14. To Melifique

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Melifique is Old French. It means "mellifluous, sweet, pleasant" it's not a typo.

The morning started early for Lovino. He was awake before Antonio and decided to head to the tavern for a substantial breakfast, a rare occurrence and an apology from Justyna and Smilte–not that anyone was prepared for his admittedly impromptu performance, not even him. After a good night’s sleep, it seemed the mood had lifted. But when he came down stairs he could hear quiet bickering. Gilbert was one of the voices he heard. He moved silently until he reached the ground floor.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Gilbert leaning on a table with his hands splayed out to balance on. The man he was arguing with was upright with his arms crossed. He was the hurdy-gurdy player from the night before, Roderich. An uppity bard like him, with his combed brown hair and snobby silver glasses, didn't belong in such a dump. Lovino disliked him.

“You still have no sense of direction, Leiermann!” Gilbert hissed, “Taking that path will lead us miles east of our destination.”

“I'm sorry but who was it who asked me for help, hm?” Rod sneered.

“I meant I need to know what to watch out for!”

“You should have mentioned that sooner.”

“You're the one who kept interrupting me when I was trying to tell you!” Gil groaned, tired of this back and forth. Lovino decided it was time to make himself known. He stepped forward and cleared his throat.

“Morning! Having trouble?” Lovino asked with a smirk. The hurdy-gurdy man groaned. Gilbert flashed a typical cocky grin.

“Romano! Glad to see you’re up! Roddy here was just about to tell me all about what to expect on our path through Melifique Forest.” he glared at Roderich, daring him to throw him off again. The poor violinist sighed and shook his head.

“You won’t be getting through there. The nymphs don’t let men through, unless they’re accompanied by a woman.” Roderich said, rubbing his temples, “It has to do with the goddess they worship. Nothing else to worry about. Now, will you pick a different route?”

“Mmm, no, you’ve been a big help, Princess!” Gilbert hummed, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to tend to the horses.” Roderich rolled his eyes and walked to the other side of the tavern to enjoy his warm cider. Lovino gave Gil a skeptical look and approached Roderich.

“I guess I should be thanking you for not playing a sad song last night. It did help me win the bet.” Romano said. Roderich glared at him.

“What bet?” he hissed before bringing his drink to his lips.

“Don't worry about it, it's not important.” Lovino said and rolled his eyes.

“If that's all, would you mind leaving me be? I'm a nightmare in the morning.” Roderich at least attempted to sound less than hostile. Lovino took that as a sign to run to the stables and listen to Gilbert. And he wasn't hard to spot despite the snow.

“Roma, I have a request, since you heard about the nymphs. They're real sticklers about their traditions and all.” Gilbert said as soon as he saw the bard and led him into the stables.

“You want me to take off my amulet to get through the forest.” he pouted and crossed his arms. Gilbert shrugged and tilted his head back and forth, trying to find the right words.

“It _is_ the fastest route, and we _do_ have the option to get through safely without begging Francis. Maybe it’s a good idea.” Gilbert tried to persuade him. Lovino wasn’t having any of it.

“Listen and listen good, you tin-wrapped potato. Antonio doesn’t know. He doesn’t trust me, I don’t blame him. The last thing I need is for my biggest secret to come out now when he’s teetering on the edge.”

“He doesn’t know? And you don’t wanna tell him—”

“Yet.”

“You don’t wanna tell him yet. Well, you have to trick him if that's the case. I’m not outing you. Luckily I have just the trick.”

* * *

 

Noontime on a gorgeous forest path covered in snow—that was one of the few things that brought even the slightest smile to Antonio's face. The only thing more wonderful than the fluid beauty of nature was the cute bundle of sass seated in front of him. Even Gilbert was happy to see a glimmer of the man he knew peeking through. It was Romano's doing and he was eternally grateful.

“Is it strange to either of you that we're passing through Melifique Forest with no sign of the nymphs?” Antonio asked aloud. Lovino shrugged.

“You'd think that bearded bastard would have captured us by now—you know, the tiny little puta man.” Antonio continued.

“Francis?” Gilbert asked in utter disbelief. Why wouldn't he just say that nymph’s name? It wasn't like he would come out of the woodwork if someone said his name—it was exactly like that. The horses stopped suddenly as three people walked out of the trees. The two women on either side were in bright purple, partly faded robes and armed with a dagger and quiver on their belts, and a bow in their hands. The man in the middle wore elegant purple robes and a white gold diadem encrusted with amethysts. He seemed annoyed yet pleased with the party.

“Sir Gilbert Beilschmidt the Awesome, you didn't tell me you were coming back, without Miss Erszébeta.” he cooed.

“She’s kicking ass elsewhere, Your Grace, oh Honorable King Francis.” Gilbert replied wryly and bowed, still on his horse, ”I present Antonio and Lovino–he’s new.”

“Gilbert, we're friends, but please be honest! Is this really a men’s only group? I would hate to have to bar you, but tradition.” Francis hummed, not sorry at all for pushing this party away from his people. Antonio swallowed thickly. They were so de—what the hell was Lovino doing!?

The bard climbed off the horse and approached Francis. His guards went for their knives, but the king stopped them. He was far too curious, and he was unarmed. Lovino bowed and addressed him:

“King Francis, if I may, I can prove that there's a woman among us–that would be me.” Lovino grabbed the bottom of his shirt to remove it. Antonio was about to jump off his horse and stop him from going any further with this lie—Lovino could never pass as a woman! He was a hairy man-shaped man! He had seen it before. But Antonio was frozen where he sat.

Lovino gripped his shirt in one hand, revealing a cloth bandage around his surprisingly hairless chest. Lovino unraveled it and rolled it in a bundle. He scared the shit out of Antonio. He had boobs—perfectly shaped, seamless breasts that were far too realistic protruding from his chest. When did the bard have time to make them? They were really well made! Would they be soft to the touch? Would Lovino let him—no he wouldn't, and that's when Antonio realized he was starting to get creepy. He had to look away out of some sort of decency and tried to will the image away.

“Interesting...” Francis hummed curiously as he studied that face, and then spotted the red eye hanging from the bard’s neck. He hadn't seen that amulet in years. Did that mean—? Oh he hoped not!

“What is your name?” he asked politely, masking the trepidation in his voice.

“Romana Lovino. Heiress to the Vargas tradition.” Lovino said confidently as he fumbled to put his shirt on again. One of the guards stumbled back in shock. Antonio and Gil were confused but couldn't bring themselves to question anything without possibly incurring the nymphs’ wrath. Francis glanced at the guard and then back to Lovino.

“We will guide you, but first, it's customary to welcome lost family with a celebration.” Francis said and snapped his fingers, and addressed the surprised guard, “Chiara, don't be shy, she is your great-great grandchild.”

Romana froze as the guard stepped forward and removed the hood shrouding her face. She had the same eyes, the same skin tone, the same face, the same hair, and the same pout as the bard. The only differences were her hair length, the markings on Chiara’s face, and her pointed ears. The knights were stunned. Antonio leaned over to get a better look, this was too strange! He had to get a better view now!

THUD!

“Idiot!” Chiara and Romana hissed simultaneously when Antonio fell off his horse. The pair gawked at each other for a moment. The stiff silence was maddening to witness. Then Chiara smirked knowingly.

“You must have more questions than I do.”

“Several.” Romana breathed.

“Francis, I have to go.” Chiara snapped, not letting her smirk fall. Francis shrugged and shook his head.

“Julia and I will bring the men to the village and prepare for the dusk rites. Go catch up!” he hummed, “As for you two,”--he looked to the knights –“follow me on foot. I want to hear all about your travels.” Antonio climbed to his feet, still shaken from his fall, and took hold of Clavileno’s reins while Gilbert dismounted and prepared to guide Raina. And then Lovino and Chiara disappeared in a puff of smoke–as is common among nymphs.

“Well, French-fry, the Awesome Me got your Estmere Stones back where they belong!” Gilbert boasted. Francis rolled his eyes and smiled at him as they entered deeper into the trees,

“I knew you would, my dedicated paladin. Which is why our Warjan accompanied me. Tell all to Julia so we may sing your praises at the evening celebration.” The pale guard next to him removed her hood and grinned. She slowed her pace to match Gilbert's, essentially slowing him down, as planned.

“Antonio,” Francis sighed, “how far are you on your quest?” He was clearly concerned and nervous. Antonio was only mildly surprised.

“I'm close to ending her. Soon that beast will meet her doom.” the knight replied. Francis shook his head and tried to find a better topic of conversation.

“And your other quest?” he asked, “Have you changed your mind? Carmen can still divine the name for you.”

“Why would I want that? I know I want to find my soulmate but I want to do it without magic. I need adventure in my life!” Antonio whined.

“Soulmate? Antonio please. A soulmate is but a dream! Your heartsong has a melody a few people can match. You want to find the perfect harmony.”

“Yeah, but I still want an adventure, a challenge. I want to be my best self before we meet. I don't want them to know what I am now as me.”

“You're on the right path for such a change. I'm proud of you Antonio.” Francis hummed as the trees grew thinner, “And the one Carmen named for you is too, I'm sure.”

“Could Carmen divine someone's past?” Antonio asked out of the blue. Francis wasn't fazed,

“If you're too afraid to ask Romana about it, yes.”

Antonio said nothing as they passed under an archway made by two intertwined trees. It was as if a gust of wind blew through him when the first of several wooden huts appeared. They encircled a stone fire pit and glowed eerily. Everything about this place was so soothing, even for the ticked off knight.

“Welcome to the Nymph Lands, Melifique.” Francis said loudly so Gilbert could hear. Antonio inhaled and relaxed. This path was essential to the journey.


	15. Magic Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A David Bowie tribute? It's more likely than you think!_

It was an average morning for Dylan “the Dragon” Caddock, he was wandering the moor with his closest companions, Branwen and Rhiannon. Two dragons followed him, their claws hardly leaving a dent in the grass. They were so calm around him, despite being young and fiery females ready to mate. The serious young man had a knack for keeping them from getting to riled up, some claimed it was witchcraft. The majority knew he was just born with a dragon soul. But a dragon soul was only so strong against what he faced daily–his family.

He looked down the hill to the sand and sea, watching the towering, violent storm clouds recede to the west. Muire was up to her old tricks again, controlling the weather. If Alistair stopped roaming this island, he might have time to visit his wife and try to calm her. He did take their son away from her. What mother wouldn’t be mad? What person wouldn’t be pissed off about being used and cast aside? A foolish one. For the time being it wasn’t his business. But it might become his problem if she kept scaring his herd!

Then his gaze fell to the sand. There was a person passed out on the grey ground with wounds covering his body and tatters covering his wounds. Was he dead? Would his dragons foolishly eat the body and gain a taste for human flesh? Was he alive? Dylan couldn’t allow some stranger to die because of his apathy. He ran to the man, with his dragons close behind. He knelt by the body and checked his neck for a pulse. His skin was on fire and he was very much in need of assistance.

“Shite.” the brunette hissed and got off his knee. He turned to the pair of dragons waiting patiently behind him. He snapped his fingers and pointed to the unconscious castaway.

"Branwen, nôl. Rhiannon, Branwen, we need to find Wart. He can help. I think.” the man ordered. The dragon to his left, a winged yellow female with a beak gently picked Afonso up in her jaw and flapped her wings. Dylan climbed on the other dragon, a blue-green serpentine one with stubby legs and large wings. Without needing a command both creatures lifted off and flew toward a large mountain, where there was a large enchanted cave full of different dragons, and Wart. Hopefully.

* * *

 

A young man with thick eyebrows and wild blonde hair lounged on a comfy stone chair and lazily stared down the newest hatchling while the other dragons slept on the ground and in cut-out areas on the walls. He was a sight to behold with his silvery eyeshadow that reached his brows, magical black cane, and pants that left nothing to the imagination. The hatchling was a tiny green thing with patches of orange along its back that was curious about this not-dragon.

"You remind me of the babe.” the man hummed to the dragon, recalling his young nephew, a wily toddler who had inherited a certain gift from his mother.

"What babe?” the cave echoed back.

"The babe with the power.” he smirked as the tiny lizard tilted its head out of confusion. How cute!

"What power?”

"The power of voodoo.” the man named Arthur hummed.

"Who do?”

"You do.”

"Do what?”

"Remind me of the babe!” Arthur laughed and pointed to the hatchling, “A dragon babe!” Little Greenie, as Alistair dubbed the baby dragon, squawked and flapped her wings. Arthur jumped to his feet and set his cane aside. Almost immediately a strange music rang out across the room and woke the rest of the herd.

"I saw my baby, cryin’ hard as babe could cry! What could I do?” Arthur sang, “My baby's love had gone and left my baby blue! Nobody knew, what kind of magic spell to use!” Arthur kept singing and began to twist and turn across the floor, wiggling his shoulders to the music.

"Slime or snails! Or puppy-dog tails!” One of the parrot-like dragons perched high up called.

"Thunder or lightning, something frightening!” another chimed in. Arthur pointed to Little Greenie and smirked,

"And baby said—Dance! Magic dance! Dance! Magic dance! Put that baby spell on me!” He bent over and picked up Greenie. He spun around and tossed her into the air. He caught her and jumped up.

"Jump! magic jump! Jump! Magic jump! Put that magic jump on me!” Arthur threw Greenie as high as he could. The dragons he woke up flew from their perches and circled the youngling quickly creating a small vortex.

"Slap that baby make him free!” he shouted. The wind picked up and forced the air to slap him in the face. Greenie was crooning happily, flapping her wings. Arthur laughed and kept dancing with his back to the ground entrance. Bad move.

"What are you doing, Wart?!” a voice boomed. Arthur spun on his heels and held his arms out as he turned pink. The man was stocky and hairy with a wicked smirk. A redhead warrior in a kilt–it could only be Alistair standing in the doorway. But there was another man, a brunette, with two dragons–one holding another man in her beak. Oh no, not Dylan too!

"What the fuck are you doing here?!” Arthur yelped. Alistair let out a loud belly-laugh. Dylan snickered and pressed on Branwen’s beak. The dragon gently placed the man on the ground and snapped at the sky proudly.

"Well I'm here to check in on the proud mum, Jean. Jeanie!” Alistair replied first and called to the dragon. As soon as he did a red dragon separated from the herd and broke the vortex. Jeanie flew out and circled him. The baby fell into Arthur's arms and cooed.

"Poor little Greenie!” Dylan pouted and motioned Arthur toward him, “Her goblin king babysitter has to get to work!” He took Greenie from Arthur and nodded toward Afonso–the man needed healing alright! Arthur knelt by Afonso as the music halted. Afonso looked up at him and smirked wearily.

"Are you incubating an egg or am I just hot?” Arthur scowled and watched him pass out again. Great, another asshole! With a fever!


	16. Romana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Lovino=Romana=Roma. she/her pronouns for now. Antonio is kinda just clueless about the whole thing._

Roma was by far the last person who would want to teleport. So when she and Chiara appeared in a wooden room filled with shelves upon shelves of books and scrolls, she was speechlessly horrified. Chiara was at ease and casually dragged Romana toward the center of the room where a woman sat in front of a large wooden bowl. She was quite beautiful with long dark hair and a soft smile.

“Carmen, snap out of it!” Chiara shouted, as some kind of greeting, and immediately a pair of vibrant green eyes shot open and landed on the pair. She grinned and motioned them closer. Chiara had to drag Romana over to her. There was something about Carmen that tugged at the bard’s heart strings, something familiar and yet foreign to her at the same time. It was something attractive.

“Chia! You won’t believe what I just saw!” Carmen squealed, “You know those three men coming toward us? One of them is actually fluid–and they’re related to you!”

“A little too late, Caramella.” Chiara chuckled and motioned to Romana, “This is my great-great granddaughter Romana Lovino. Roma, this is Carmen, our divination expert.”

“Hola Roma.” Carmen said sweetly, and added to Chiara, “They’re so cute!” That brought a bright blush to Roma’s face. Chiara scowled at the pair and cleared her throat.

“We have the real eye of Xanthous, you need it. Roma, if you don’t mind.” Chiara huffed and held her hand out. Roma took off her amulet and placed it in Chiara’s waiting palm. The nymph tossed the amulet to Carmen, a little roughly, and turned on her heels. Carmen caught it and pouted, there was no need for such roughness with a treasure such as this! Roma would have commented but Chiara dragged her back to the shelves just as Carmen placed the amulet in the bowl.

“What was that about?” Romana croaked and freed her arm. Chiara paused and scanned the shelves with a shrug.

“We're all in open relationships here, but family members don't share with each other. Carmen is mine. Don’t get any ideas. I didn’t drool over your knight!” Chiara hissed. Roma glared at her. The nerve!

“Gilbert is not my knight.” she spat, straining her voice.

“No, the idiot who fell off the horse.” Chiara retorted and rolled her eyes. How dumb was this kid?

“Antonio!? That bastard, ‘my knight?’ Oh my god woman, not in a million years!” Romana laughed raspily, “You’re crazy!”

“Am I? Maybe when we’re done, we can talk to my wife.” Chiara said as she pulled a worn leather book from the shelf. She walked to the end of the aisle and took a seat on the  ground with her back to the wall. Roma followed and sat next to her, thinking of nothing better to do.

“This,” Chiara said as she opened the book, “Is the record of when I was seduced by Renato Vargas. He was a charming traveler who was with his sister when they passed through here.” Roma read the pages and snorted.

“Seduced? You wanted a child and some dick, and in exchange you granted him a special talent. Unless that book is wrong, you seduced him.” she said, straining her vocal cords.

“I wanted one, I got two. Your great grandfather and his sister. I tried to give Renato his son, but the bastard died. His sister took the baby and raised him to be a bard—don’t give me that look! Giovanna and I visited often, there was only room for one in both homes. I’m no monster!”

“Then why the hell doesn’t anyone know who you are?” she retorted and coughed dryly.

“After Genaro grew up he married. Giovanna died before Romulus was born, while protecting that amulet you wore. It has the power to put dragons to sleep like a warm spring breeze. It can also turn trolls into fearsome beasts not even elves can defeat.”

“And you left it in the hands of a half-nymph?” Roma asked incredulously, her voice was unnervingly scratchy and dry. 

“Don’t underestimate my daughter. It took twelve trolls, a cockatrice, and a siren to subdue her. And since it found its way to your hands, unharmed, I would say it was a wise decision.”

“It only came to me because of that stupid fire.” Romana grumbled and shrank into herself. 

“What was that?” the nymph asked. That only made Romana bristle.

“Nothing. I didn’t say a damn thing.” the bard spat before hacking up a lung. She was about as likely to open up as a live oyster. That attitude was going to hinder the nymphs. Chiara was quite curious and quite impatient. But she had a way. 

She slammed the book shut and stood abruptly, scaring Roma. Chiara rose and swiftly returned the book before setting off toward Carmen. Roma was right behind her, not ready to be trapped in some strange library alone.

“Don’t add the sunflower oil yet!” Chiara shouted. When they emerged, Carmen had the eye around her neck and had a bottle in her hands. She looked quite confused. Beyond that, Antonio was sitting by her.

“I wasn’t going to. This is the ‘bygone blend’ and it’s for this boy. King Francis asked me to divine for him and then left.”

“Well, leave that oil out. I want to know how Romana came to obtain the eye. Since she clearly doesn’t want to talk about it, I need you to show me.” Chiara explained and crossed her arms. Roma glared at her—she was right but that only made it worse.

“Oh wow!” Carmen gasped, “Antonio wanted to learn about her past too!” She beamed and giggled at the coincidence. Antonio went pink and rubbed his neck with an awkward grin. Roma went pale as a ghost and froze. Not good.

“You didn't think to fucking ask me first?!” she yelled quietly. Antonio shrank into himself and winced, something about how much force she needed to muster to manage that was enough to frighten him. Did she scream and curse out these lovely nymphs already?

“I didn't think you'd tell me anything.” he admitted sheepishly. 

“Your damn right I wouldn't, you twisted bastard! You don't deserve to know about me yet!” she growled.

“I only need to know about the day you got the amulet. If you don't want him here for that, then I can ask him to leave—right Antonio?” Carmen interjected and stared Antonio down. The knight swallowed thickly under that crushing glare and nodded. Roma pondered it for a moment. That moment was just after she got her cross from Vlad, after she bound her chest daily. If he wanted to know so badly about her, he would see everything she saw, no matter how scarring.

“I have no objections to him staying. But I want to know how to get out of here in case.” Roma said flatly. One of Chiara's eyebrows rose. Clearly this wouldn't be pleasant, but it was necessary.

“I'll take you to my home if there's anything that stresses you. We're in a tree high in the air, climbing down takes a half hour. Is that alright?” Chiara said in a motherly tone. Roma nodded to her. Carmen saw that and poured some of the purple mixture into the bowl, which was full of water. 

“Beryl thgil otemoc raeyretsey!” Carmen chanted over and over. Everyone gathered around and looked into the bowl as a scene unfolded.


	17. Yesteryear Come to Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TRIGGER WARNING** Angst, death, trauma, graphic imagery

Who would have thought that a vampire could be agreeable? Not Lovino. He wrapped his cloak around him for warmth as he trekked through and out of the woods. His arm hurt but it was a small price to pay for his own sanity. A sanity that not even the howling wind or threat of rain could shake.

His eyes fixed themselves upon the town in the distance. Only one light could be seen, the lighthouse beacon. It was a good landmark for him as well as the ships. Holding his lantern up to see the path, Lovino couldn't help but feel giddy.

ZAP! BOOM!

The ground beneath him shook as thunder rolled across the sky. His eyes burned from the most brilliant bolt of lightning he had ever seen. When he could finally see again the ringing in his ears had subsided significantly.

He ran.

Home wasn't far away and Marcello would need him if that burst was any indication of what was to come. Forgoing using his lantern, Lovino braved the underbrush and the threat of robbers to reach that small cottage.

If only his legs could have carried him faster.

He could smell the smoke.

See the orange hue illuminating the darkness beneath dark clouds.

Then the heat knocked into his chest and he saw the worst possible scene. Feli and Marcello were curled up away from the house, in tears. Their family cottage was ablaze and no one else was outside. Mama, Papa, Nonno—they could still be inside!

“Romano!?” Feli shouted to him, beckoning him closer. Lovino ran to his brothers and knelt down in front of them. Surely the adults were getting help.

“Roma, the lightning—” Feli coughed, “Papa and Nonno were crushed by a support beam. They saved us.”

“What about Mama?” Lovino asked in a frenzy. He couldn't lose her too!

“She might be inside.” Marcello sniffled and clung to Feli. Lovino's common sense failed him. He tossed his cloak and satchel aside and charged the door.

Feli's desperate screams were merely a buzzing in the back of his head. His mama was all that mattered. The heat cooking him alive, the splintering wood against his side, the smoke filling his lungs—all in a foolish attempt to burst in and pull her out.

Orange licking at his legs, catching his clothes–two bodies crushed by a support beam—Papa and Nonno were mangled and burnt, but recognizable. It made his stomach twist into knots. His eyes were glued to their skin, peeling away from their flesh.

Her door fell off its hinges and landed with a thud that reminded Lovino of his task. Mama could be alive. He stumbled across the broken floor, dizzy from the heat and fumes—those horrible metallic fumes. His heart pounded in his ears until he entered the room.

Flames engulfed the meager bed and the charred mass of bone and muscle sprawled across it. He hurried to her side and feel to his knees. The most beautiful, caring woman he knew was gone. The only woman in his life who meant anything was the debris in his aching lungs. If only he had tears, he would have sobbed enough to douse the beast that swallowed his family whole.

But a flash of red caught his eye. The amulet around her exposed neck was still in tact. He reached for the last piece of her that he could ever have and tore it away from the body.

He stumbled back and groaned, too high on adrenaline to feel the pain. The flames around him grew taller, blocking his exit as his vision faded. He had to leave. He wanted to stay. His brothers were more important than his whims.

The wall to the outside was weakened enough for him to break through and roll away toward the forest. In the underbrush, his sense returned and he let out a scream if pain, regret, and agony that had birds flying from the trees. He lost consciousness on the ground soon after.

 

* * *

A horrible raspy scream pulled everyone's attention from the vision. Roma fell to her knees, clutching her head. She was too horrified to move, too ensnared by the memory to look away, like some cornered animal.

Chiara fell to her knees and pulled Roma to her chest, ready to take the poor bard away from this place. She only needed a moment to figure out where to go in particular. A moment was all it took to shift the dynamic.

Antonio, white as a sheet, stood abruptly, knocking his chair over. He stormed around the table to Chiara and Roma and crouched down by them as Roma’s voice cut out. He tapped Chiara's shoulder, hoping to go with them. The nymph understood and grabbed his hand. And then…

The three of them were in a cozy sitting room covered in assorted cushions. The smell of garlic and tomatoes wafted through the air. It was warm like a grandmother's home, and it didn't take much to figure out where they were.

“You're safe now, you're safe.” Chiara cooed and ran a hand through Roma’s hair. Antonio let go so Chiara could hug the poor dear and mumble apologies to her. If they would have known, they would have never divined that scene.

“Lovino, I—I—” Antonio stammered.

“Shut up and sit. She can't speak, words are useless now, and I need you to cradle her while I make something to bring her from her thoughts.” Chiara ordered and kissed the top of Roma's head before getting to her feet.

“I’ll be right back, bambina. I promise.” Chiara hummed. Roma nodded stiffly with tears streaming down her face. Her hands switched from clawing her hair to clawing the green pillow in front of her. Antonio's heart shattered at the sight. Chiara stared him down as she left the room through a rounded archway. It wasn't malicious, just affirming her orders.

“Lovino!” he yelped and quickly pulled the bard into his lap. His arms formed a protective cage around her as she curled into herself.

“I'm here, you're going to be okay.” Antonio said gently. He had seen death consume so many people, but that vision was far worse than when he could imagine. Whatever's he thought of the bard before was insignificant. He was not able to slay Roma’s demons, he had to tend wounds without the right bandages.

A puff of air against his chest, what must have been a bitter laugh coming from the person curled into him, surprised him. Didn't Lovino know how a party was supposed to work? Not with Antonio's actions thus far. He would make it right by making sure Lovino would be fit to travel onward. But then something hit him.

“ _Unlike me, you're not alone…_ ’

Lovino's words of comfort to him before revealed the sad truth behind the bitter front. Roma had no one to turn to when the pain and regret flared inside. Those brothers, Feli and Marcello, they were just as tormented.

“Roma, I mean it. I'm here, you're not alone anymore.” Antonio breathed, and stroked her hair. She buried her face in his chest and bunched his shirt in her fists. She couldn't stop crying, her whole body was shaking. Antonio simply held her close and kept petting her head for over an hour, until she calmed down.

“Romana, bambina,” Chiara cooed when she returned with a mug in her hands. Roma's sobs faded to hiccups and she let go of Antonio. Chiara knelt by them and held out the mug to Roma.

“Drink this, all of it, it will help with the smoke damage.” She said warmly, as if Romana were her child. Romana took it and drank a little before twisting her face in disgust. The tea was sickeningly sweet mixed with the taste of grass.

“It's not supposed to be pleasant, it's just a blend to heal you. I'm surprised you were able the speak at all.”

“Amulet.” the bard croaked before taking a huge swig of the medicinal tea, polishing it off. Antonio pouted–that alluring and yet irksome voice was just a magic trick. It didn't shock him considering the body changing trick Lovino performed, but it made the bard seem fake.

“The Eye of Xanthous, that makes sense, it needs its wearer to have a voice, and it wouldn't be out of line for it to restore yours.” Chiara mused, “I have a feeling that you'll need it back before you go.”

“Please.” Roma whispered, “I'm nothing without it, I'm nothing without her.”

“Imma call bullshit, but I'm not the one who would know.” Chiara huffed and glared at Antonio. He was the closest person who could help. Despite his new doubts, he agreed.

“You saved my life twice Lovi,” he laughed, “and it was all because of your quick wit and reflexes.” Roma tried to inch away from him, but he pulled her back into his chest and tsked.

“You did! And you did it despite me being a jackass!”

“A jackass who won't fucking let go!” Roma snapped. Even without the amulet that voice sent chills down Antonio's spine—it was deep and sultry and scratchy, like a lover clawing at his back.

“Let her go before she kills her voice again.” Chiara ordered and turned her attention to Roma, “I need to take you back to Carmen before my sisters and I cleanse you for the celebration. Are you ready to go back to the library? You don't have to if you're still shaken.”

“Why?”

“The eye, Spring’s gaze, you read the back. You need to know the Jay melody and the Finch song if you're going after who I think you are.”

“Beryl.” Antonio confirmed. Chiara sagged her shoulders and blew a piece of hair from her face. Of course it was Beryl, this jackass was going to kill her if he had his way! What else would she expect from the Matador?

“We need the four—no, just–you can't leave Melifique before you know these songs.” Chiara groaned, not ready to go into too much detail.

“Let's go, the sooner I get it back the better." Roma sighed. She could handle it, she’d dealt with the memories many times before, without reliving them. What were a few distracting songs? They were the entire world.


	18. Ástille

“Will you stop reminding me that I fucked up while I have a patient?”

“Wart, you left them with eternal winter! Emerald, Vermilion, and Xanthous are here where they belong. We can’t have balance without Beryl. The storm that caused the man’s ship to sink was either her or Mae. And I sent a letter with Jeanie to check with her–it wasn’t Mae.”

Afonso awoke to the sound of two men arguing. He sat up, knocking the blanket covering him off to pool at his hips. He rubbed the back of his head and winced. That shipwreck was worse than he thought. He noticed he was in clean clothes and his hair was washed of it’s hard-earned salt. He had to have washed up on some shore, but who had found him? He hoped they were cute–not just anyone could get a good look at his naked body!

“What do you expect me to do? The egg didn't hatch! What now? Bring Emerald to that mountain and have a repeat of the two sisters’ fight? And that winter is not eternal!” one of the voices snapped.

“With your track record, you’ll make a bollox of that too.” the other voice hissed darkly.

“Ástille!” the first voice shouted. Immediately after Afonso heard what he could only describe as a zap in the wind. Then suddenly a curtain behind him was drawn. He turned to see a slight man with shaggy blonde hair and thick eyebrows. He was just as surprised.

“Good morning, I'm glad to see you finally woke up.” he said and approached Afonso. Afonso turned so his legs could hang over the edge of the bed. He had quite a few questions.

“I'm Arthur Kirkland, the Goblin King, and your healer.” the goblin king said with an unnecessary bow, “Who are you?”

“Me? Afonso Esteves-Fernandes. Where am I?” he said, trying not to stare at the man’s brows for too long. Or maybe it was just his face.

“You’re on ieg Dracena. I hope you don't mind dragons—this is a haven for them.” Arthur answered cautiously. Dylan's scaly beasts were always scaring people away. It was certainly not the Goblin King among them, heavens no! Not the irritable, flamboyant wizard! Afonso went tense and gripped the sheet tightly until he lost all color in his knuckles.

“Dragons, you say?” he chuckled nervously.

“They're all tame but one–the baby. But none of them will hurt you.” Arthur replied, noticing the wild and terrified look in his eyes. Oh this would not do at all.

“I assure you, you're safe. None of them will burn you—” Arthur paused when he realized there was only one dragon on the mainland causing problems, “—or freeze you.”

“That’s not exactly comforting.” Afonso said quietly, “When can I get back to the continent? My partner is probably worried.”

“I'm not sure, you're still feverish. I would rather not have you ship off and pass out while navigating.” Arthur said firmly. A dragon phobia was not an excuse to do something so risky. He was about to elaborate when the last voice he wanted to hear boomed through the cave.

“Wart!” Dylan shouted menacingly, causing an uproar of disgruntled squawks and snarls to follow, “Coc y gath! I can’t leave you twmffatau alone for five minutes!”

“Hell…” Arthur mumbled to himself and ran a hand down his face. Afonso, though frightened, was beyond amused. He fought back a smile as a slight but toned man stormed into the room, but he froze when he saw the white and pink lizard wearing a green ribbon on his shoulder.

“I swear! I leave for ten minutes to tend to Winter’s nest and you stunned the oaf!” Dylan growled. The dragon on his shoulder hissed at the goblin king and coral fans popped out on the side of its face. Afonso scooted away from them, backing into the wall with a thud.

“Oh, hello!” Dylan smiled and turned to the uneasy sailor, “Dylan Caddock, dragon herder. Don't mind Lupe, she's not dangerous, she's my best healer.”

“Excuse me!” Arthur gasped, completely insulted.

“You're excused. Now then, introductions?” Dylan replied nonchalantly, eliciting a snicker from Afonso.

“This is Afonso, leave him be to rest.” Arthur huffed. Dylan shook his head.

“I'll leave—right behind you. I'm not joking, you and Ali need to pull your shite together. Especially now that they found the eye.”

“The nymphs—they found—and told Muire first!?” Arthur gawked. Afonso was listening carefully to everything.

“Francis is her lover, and Alistair’s. No surprise by there! The real surprise is that one of the people traveling with it is the Matador.”

“Are you fucking shitting me!? The world as we know it is in jeopardy!” 

“He doesn't have it. A Vargas does.”

“So a bard has it and the Matador’s dick on a leash! Fucking fantastic!”

“A Vargas bard, descended from a  Mimallone Nymph. So yes, fantastic you fucking drewgi!—”

“Filho de trinta putas!” Afonso shrieked, cutting off their argument. A certain axolotl-shaped creature had slipped from Dylan’s shoulders and was trotting happily around a quivering mass of blankets. Dylan turned and barked an order at the dragon. Lupe glared at him for a moment and hissed menacingly, before finding the edge of the blanket and crawling under.

Afonso’s screams were enough to bring Alistair out of his trance. The burly redhead barreled into the small room and took in his surroundings.

“Wha happened?” Alistair asked Dylan. Arthur sneered at him and cleared his throat, pointing to the bed.

“He’s got dracophobia bad. Lupe seems to like him.” Dylan said with a shrug. 

“Ela no meu cabelo!”

“Are either of you going to do something?” Arthur snapped, only to be ignored. He picked up his cane, pointed it at the squirming mass and shouted, 

“Ástille!” 

The mass of blankets froze with a blinding flash of light. Arthur approached the mass carefully while his brothers watched, speechlessly. A tiny lump was still moving, clearly Lupe wasn't hit.

Arthur tore the blanket away–Lupe  _ was _ harmless. To his delight, the tiny dragon was tying a bow in the sailor’s hair, the hair she had just braided. Afonso, stared at her as best he could, trapped in a fetal position. Once she was finished, Lupe cooed and shot a jet of salt water at the braid. She happily jumped down to the floor and scrambled up Arthur’s leg to his shoulder.

“Lithe!” Arthur said and flicked his wrist. Afonso would be able to move more than just his eyes in due time, but due time was not soon enough. 

“Don't scream, Afonso. She didn't hurt you and she won't. In fact, I'd say she did you a favor.” Arthur added to appease him. Afonso bit his lip and stiffly sat up. He reached back to feel his hair. He pulled his hand back and stared at it, rubbing a substance between his fingers and thumb.

“S-Sea water?” he choked out.

“If it weren't her, Ali woulda braided that mop and tossed you in the sea. And he's a rat bastard!” Dylan jeered. Alistair shoved him and scoffed.

“Better me than Beryl!” Alistair scoffed.

“Don’t compare yourself to that monster. I know what she is capable of.” Afonso spat bitterly. The three brothers all turned and eyed him suspiciously. Then, two gazes landed on Arthur. The blonde was losing the color in his face as it dawned on him. Lupe scurried off his shoulder and clambered up to the man on the bed. He was too wrathful and still to notice her clinging to his heart and purring.

“Are you–Are you the boy from the village that got frozen? The one who chased me into the trees?” Arthur asked hesitantly. Afonso’s death glare landed on him.

“You’re the one Antonio was chasing that day.” he hissed, “Why the hell did you run from him?”

“Antonio...Antonio Fernandez Carriedo.” Arthur mumbled as yet another revelation dawned on him.

“You’re the Matador’s brother…” Dylan breathed. Well shit his whole flock was in trouble now. At least Alistair seemed amused.

“Our dracophobe is gonna hate you Artie! And then he’ll realize he can’t hate you anymore because Lupe’s on his heart!” he cheered almost gleefully. Afonso’s head snapped down and he snarled under his breath, trying to get rid of her without making her angry. But even then, he was calming down and she wasn't moving.

“Why would I hate the person who saved my life?” he asked, not looking up. The brothers grew tense. Alistair's fat mouth would be the death of him. Dylan shrank back and exited the room–Lupe would be okay, he was certain of that. Arthur set his cane aside and wrung his hands nervously.

“Because I'm the one who ruined it in the first place.”


	19. The Finch Song

Antonio sat outside Chiara's cottage in the grass and threw his head back against the wall. He had been such a fool for wanting to know so much about Lovino and sneaking around to find out more—he should have never witnessed such a horrific event and the bard’s reaction to it. He only wanted to know more, but how to approach it. 

“The hell do you think you're doing? I built this place from scratch I don't need some bastard  breaking it down with their head!” a nymph shouted and charged toward him. Unlike the others he had seen, this woman wore a much shorter robe, leggings, and knee-high boots. Her auburn hair was tied back with one stray curl bouncing on the left side of her head. The bow and quiver on her back were more robust than the guards’ and it was easy to tell what her role was.

Antonio scrambled to his feet when she stopped and nocked an arrow. He regretted letting Francis take his armor and prayed he could keep his fighting instinct under control.

“Don't shoot! I'm sorry I didn't realize! I mean no harm!” he shouted.

“No harm? A man with no sponsor, here? Don't even try to trick me!” she snarled with her weapon raised. 

“I have a sponsor! Roma, but Chiara—”

“What the hell did you do to my sister!” she cut him off harshly.

“Nothing! No, she and Roma are in the library and I'm waiting for them to get back! They're doing something with this amulet and—”

“Xanthous?” she cut him off again, only more surprised than defensive, and lowered her bow,

“Who are you?”

“Sir Antonio Fernández Carriedo, and you?”

“Alicia. I'm surprised Frenchie let you of all people in.” she replied and approached her front door. He followed, perturbed.

“What?”

“You have that quest. It'll throw off nature's delicate balance if you succeed, duh.” she mused and led him to the room full of cushions. She set her gear aside and flopped onto the pillows with a contented sigh. He was rigid and utterly lost. She got one look at his face and groaned,

“You have no idea. Sit down lemme explain…”

* * *

 

“Are you sure you're ready? You don't have to put on a brave face bambina.” Chiara whispered to her as they approached Carmen. Roma scoffed and rolled her eyes–she suffered just as badly during every thunderstorm, okay maybe not as badly but learning a couple songs would be the best possible distraction. Music was the only thing that saved her.

“I have to learn two songs. I'm not gonna wait around to do it.” Roma stated firmly. Chiara smirked and rolled her eyes, someone was as stubborn as she was! 

“Caramella, is everything set up?” Chiara called to the nymph waiting by the bowl.

“Of course! Come! Sit!” Carmen laughed and motioned them over. Romana and Chiara approached the short table, and sat down--Chiara going around to sit across from Roma. Carmen picked up a jug to her left and poured a strange green liquid into her bowl of water and set it down. Then she pulled the amulet from her neck and held it over the basin.

“To hear the finch song, you need to close your eyes. If all goes well, a vision of Spring will come to you. You cannot open your eyes before the song is finished, or else you won’t be able to hear it again.” Carmen said sternly and eyed the bard. Romana nodded.

“Bueno.” Carmen said and dropped the amulet in the basin. Everyone shut their eyes as she began to chant rhythmically.

* * *

 

“Around here we call you the Matador, since you plan on killing the ice dragon.” Alicia hummed idly and flicked a few green wisps of magic in the air. She was far too relaxed and comfortable lounging on those pillows.

“Beryl is killing people, making life miserable. I’m doing the world a favor.” Antonio retorted irrately. Alicia stared at him as if he were a foolish toddler she had no time for. He wouldn’t even sit down! She rolled her eyes and sighed. Time to continue with the lesson.

“If you could kill winter, if you could kill Nature’s true night, would you? Even Nature needs to rest.” Alicia asked and sat up. Antonio frowned, of course he would! What good was winter anyway? It was cold and miserable, and the crops wouldn’t grow.

“Yes. Is there even a purpose for winter?”

“Winter is when the earth can rest so that the spring and summer have the means and energy to grow.” Alicia scoffed, “Winter is when Nature can sleep. Would you like it if I took away your ability to sleep?”

“No…” Antonio pouted, “But what does that have to do with me slaying Beryl?” he asked innocently enough but there was an edge in his tone. Alicia groaned and flopped back down on her pillows. What were these humans taught now a days?

“‘Winter’s foe was Summer’” she hummed the tune Roderich played then stopped and said, “Beryl’s foe was Emerald.”

“Okay, what does that mean?” Antonio asked, getting tired of the roundabout conversation.

“Are you really that dense?” Alicia groaned and threw her arm over her face. She was not in the mood to deal with this.

* * *

 

Romana’s eyes were closed but her ears were wide open. A soft, fluttering melody floated through her as the blackness began to fade and blur. She was completely calmed by it, as if she had never witnessed that scene from earlier. But that peace was shattered in an instant.

A tall yellow dragon, taller than the tallest horse and stockier than the stockiest ox, soared through a gray sky. It’s whiskers waved beside his blocky face and his piercing red eye were locked on a target ahead in the distance. But that was only natural.

The view shifted so that everything became the yellow dragon’s perspective. Up in the distance there was a mountain range standing stark against a dark gray sky. Storm clouds–they swirled into a spiral mixed with flashes of lightning and ice. Two dragons, one a deep blue and smaller than the other, the other a bulky green beast with a defined yellow underbelly—they were fighting, probably to the death.

_ Emerald. Beryl. Summer. Winter. _

A booming voice rang in Roma's head, the yellow dragon's thoughts.

_ Vermillion must make haste. _

As the yellow dragon flew nearer, Beryl and Emerald became clearer. The scrapes and scars along Emerald's body were deep and dangerous. This was not the first time they had such a battle.

_ A crescendo...Xanthous, never sleep again. _

The booming voice sighed, apparently scolding himself. The pair in the distance grew nearer and nearer still. Xanthous opened his mouth and shot a jet of water into the mix of lightning and ice. When that didn't get their attention, he started to sing, making the time playing in Roma's head louder and more distinct. He sang his melody once, calming the battle.

But just as Xanthous closed his mouth and ended the song, Roma's vision ended. Her eyes shot open and went wide as saucers. She looked at Carmen and Chiara and asked...

* * *

 

“Beryl is the embodiment of winter!?” Antonio gasped, utterly horror-stricken. He collapsed on the cushions next to Alicia and tried not to scream. He was set on killing the winter—not just a malicious scaly beast! The weight of his quest was starting to press onto his shoulders. He was going to kill a beast and a beastly season—what had he gotten himself into?


End file.
